Rip the Earth in Two with Your Mind
by I am psycowriter
Summary: Raising a pack of raptors was one thing. Finding himself in a mental bond with them was another. Being forcefully bonded with a pair of creatures that shouldn't even exist was so far out of the realm of possibilities Owen Grady had clung to that at this point he's not even sure what to do with himself. Oddly enough, Henry Wu is the only one not freaking out.
1. It's Not My Fault I'm a Maniac

Yes hello, So I was struck with inspiration after reading several fics with Owen and his squad (in particular Tainted by Marcx on ao3 seriously if you haven't read it it's freaking beautiful). I just kind of fell in love with Jurassic World (though there were a few things I was eh on but seriously I loved this movie). So here we are. Also, any and all mistakes are mine.

Disclaimer:The things I would do if I actually owned it... But no I don't Jurassic Park/World.

* * *

Several months of research, of pouring over Robert Muldoon's journal, scanning page after page of anger-undertoned papers from doctors Grant, Sattler, and Malcolm, of expeditions to Isla Sorna could not have prepared him for this.

The egg is shaking and cracking and through shell and membrane Owen can feel her, see her in his mind like a brilliant beacon, the other little presences fading and dulling in the face of his new charge. She scrapes at her prison, making little noises and calming when Owen coos right back. He is the first thing she hears, the first thing she sees and she gets tangled in his mind, his emotions and he can feel her there, intelligent but still small and scared and unused to her new world. Elation rushes through him.

Taking pity on the tiny raptor, he projects calm-security-warmth and smiles when her golden eyes meet his blue-green. She waddles to him, still sticky with fluid. A piece of eggshell is stuck between her eyes. He gently takes her into his arms, wiping off the fluid and flicking away the eggshell, smile soft and eyes warm.

She's beautiful, he thinks.

Her skin is soft and warm, more like leather than scales. She's gray-ish with a hint of blue, a stripe of cobalt going down her sides. Her name is supposed to be Beta. Owen isn't supposed to get attached. However that doesn't stop him from mentally dubbing her Blue and then she squawks delight in his mind and he's already gone and fallen in love and he knows it.

His grandmother is going to kill him.

Movement catches his eye and he looks up to see the rest of the clutch beginning to wobble and shake, little tap-tap-taps coming from within. He doesn't feel/see them as brightly as he does Blue, not even close. They sound muffled in his head, even as the four other hatchlings crack through their eggs. They don't feel strong, not like Blue does, all warm and comfortable on his lap. Owen names the other four after the first few Greek letters that come to his mind.

The clumsy one with the darker stripes is Theta, the greenish-gray one is Sigma, the smallest one, all dust brown, is named Omega, and the last one, the gray one speckled with pale green is Epsilon. There is a connect, Owen can feel them exploring their new surroundings (as well as his mind)but already he can feel foreboding in his gut. Those four won't last and it breaks his heart to think it. Blue looks up at him, eyes as sharp as her teeth and already her mind is a steadying presence in his head. Her tiny claws wrap around the finger stroking her snout and Owen winces at the blood that is drawn.

She's newborn and she still hasn't learned to control her sharp little bits in ways that won't lead to injury. Blue's smart though and once she catches the flicker of pain that goes through the tentative, new link, she rearranges her claws so that they hold rather than dig. She blinks up at him, curious.

Owen realizes that they're all gazing at him, tense, Epsilon clawing at the incubator and Omega chuffing sad little noises. It hits him a second later that he's projecting his uncertainties and that they're feeding off the negativity. He stows those thoughts away and concentrates on projecting calm-safety-stability until the tension melts and he's left with a bunch of baby raptors cuddling on his lap and making scraps of his clothes.

They're cooing at him, he's cooing back and then Henry Wu walks in, eyes bemused, and the moment is gone.

* * *

It's two in the morning when his girls are finally delivered to his bungalow and Owen feels that he can finally sleep.

He could feel them, barking, calling for him, Blue the most frantic. He had sent wave after wave of calm-safety until they had finally quieted and his mind no longer felt like it was going to split with the intensity of Blue's worry, need for him, for the Alpha.

They're exhausted when they arrive and he's exhausted when he ushers them into the cat bed in the warm kitchen. None of them actually sleep until Owen decides enough is enough and settles down with a blanket and a few pillows on the floor beside them. When he wakes, he finds four of his girls curled in a knot of claws and teeth by his stomach and Blue right by his head. She's fuzzy and warm in the space she's made for herself in his mind and he smiles as she comes slowly into wakefulness.

Then he frowns.

He can't feel the others.

There's a gape in his mind space where they use to be, empty and void and cold. Owen nudges at them, both mentally and physically and shivers at the coldness he encounters. He glances at Blue and he can feel the confusion at the emptiness that she too feels.

They're dead. Theta, Sigma, Omega, and Epsilon did not last the night and Owen struggles to keep himself together as he calls Dr. Wu to give him the news. Wu doesn't sound overly surprised ("Each one was a different cocktail of genetics and we were trying to determine which ones work best").

Blue curls around his neck, mourning the loss of her sisters.

* * *

It takes two months for a new clutch to be developed (genes more like Blue's) and in that time, Owen and Blue become extraordinarily cohesive. Barry, Owen's fellow 'raptor wrangler', as they're called, checks on them regularly. Owen likes him a lot more than he likes most other people and Blue likes him too so a friendship is struck.

He drives them to lab for the clutch's hatching and Owen knows he's standing behind the glass wall, watching him with the rest of the scientists. Owen has all of three seconds to appreciate the gesture when one of the three eggs begins to tremble. Blue echoes his soft, encouraging croons from her perch on his shoulder. He can feel them this time, nearly as bright and clear as Blue and he feels relief because he knows, knows these girls are going to make it.

Charlie shatters out of her egg, jaws snapping and eyes wild and curious. She waits for Delta to to tumble out and Owen grins. Echo comes out slower, shyer than her excitable siblings.

Look Blue, Owen hums, it's your new sisters. The emotion he receives in response is completion because finally the pack feels whole. Owen gently wipes down his new girls, wincing as Delta decides his fingers are sturdy enough chew toys. He chastises her softly, giving her nose a small tap. He can tell them apart rather easily. Charlie is a lighter, yellowish green, Delta reminds him of emeralds, and Echo, gold and brown as she is, reminds him of sunshine.

They soak up the positive emotions he emits and take in his sent and the sight of him, memorizing every little detail and fitting into his mind as if they were made to, as if they are puzzle pieces sliding into place. That thought scares him for a moment and he glances over at the viewing window, but scratches the idea because no one outside of his family knows about his abilities.

Wu comes in, an expression Owen can't read ironed over his face, but he can't bring himself to care because he's with his girls and they're together and safe.

"What do you think of our new batch, Mr. Grady?" Wu asks, voice careful and oddly calculated. Owen decides it's not worth it to care.

"They're perfect," he breathes, relishes in the echoes of protector, guardian, Alpha bouncing around in his mind. Blue is quiet but he can sense her amusement at her younger siblings.

"I'm glad you think so," says Wu and then he's gone and Barry's in his place.

His smile is bright and his eyes are shining and Owen can tell he's piqued his girl's curiosity.

"Barry, I'd like you to meet the newest members of my pack," Owen declares, waving his hand between Barry and the raptors cuddling on his lap.

"This little lady is Charlie, this one is Delta, and this little ray of sunshine is Echo," he introduces, tapping each raptor gently on the nose as he says their name. "Charlie, Delta, Echo, I'd like you to meet Barry. He's here to make sure you don't eat me or something."

Barry gives him a look that probably means something significant (like "this isn't a joking matter Owen"), but Owen's never been too good with interpreting human emotions. He ignores the look and goes right back to cooing at his new pack mates.

* * *

When the four of them are about the size of cats, Owen thinks he might have to start building his house out of something much sturdier than wood. This is the fifth time this month that he's asked Barry if he could get him a new door and it's starting to get kind of ridiculous. He's at least finally gotten them to stop tearing apart the furniture, but he's afraid he's going to run out of good socks before long. Echo seems to have a personal vendetta against them.

They're doing simple training today, and they're doing pretty well. They like getting positive emotions from him and the strips of tender meat he treats them with aren't bad either. Barry's in the background, supervising, and the girls are on their best behavior.

Or at least, Blue is on her best behavior.

Echo is doing her damn best to annoy Charlie into lashing out and Delta is eyeing a nearby bush with unsettling interest. It's an hour later when Owen decides his girls are good for now and whistles at them to let them know they're free to go. Delta goes straight for the bush, letting out a delighted squeal when she captures the lizard that had been hiding beneath its shade. Echo finally coerces Charlie into a play fight and Blue supervises them with an air of superiority that only an older sibling could emit.

Owen settles on his hammock, grinning when Barry joins him with a beer in hand.

"Your girls are doing very well, you know," he says breezily.

"Yeah," Owen replies, letting his content spread through the link and warming at receiving the same feeling from his pack.

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, only interrupted by the raptors' playful screeches. At some point Barry goes back inside for a refill and Owen lies down on the hammock, letting the light breeze play with his gingery hair. He's getting hazy, but he can feel his raptors climb onto the hammock with him, careful of sickle claws and fragile skin. Delta and Charlie curl up on either side of him, heads resting on his arms, Echo makes herself comfortable on his stomach and Blue takes her customary place by his head.

He's got a meeting in an hour, but he knows that if he falls asleep then Barry'll wake him and that's good enough for him.

Before his raptors had been born, he had had trouble sleeping. He could feel all the animals in the park in the back of his mind, large herds a dull thrum and dangerous predators (like the t-rex) were like stab of bright light. Now though, his girls keep him grounded, keep him from letting his awareness spread too far and he can allow himself a peaceful nap.

He's just on the edge of slipping into a deep sleep when something starts tapping at his cheek with urgency and he feels the oddest urge to bite at whatever's gone and interrupted his sleep. Owen's eyes blink open slowly, as if stuck in molasses. Barry's face hovers above him, worry, anxiety, and agitation etched into the lines around his eyes. Owen stumbles gracelessly into a sitting position, Echo squawking at being dislodged. Charlie and Delta jump off the hammock and curl around his ankles, protesting when he tries to move away. Blue claws her way up onto his shoulder and around his neck while Echo replaces herself on his lap.

Owen turns his attention to Barry who's gesturing wildly to the large black SUV heading their way and suddenly Owen understands Barry's alarm. His senses slam into him, chasing away the drowsiness and his girls rise to alertness with him. The SUV comes to a stop beside Barry's truck and out of the kicked up dirt and dust emerges none other than Vic Hoskins.

Owen holds back the urge to snarl. Blue easily picks up his urge and does more than enough hissing for the both of them. He keeps an eye on Delta, who eyes Hoskins' ankles rather suspiciously, and whistles for his girls to stay near. He reinforces the command through the link. Barry stands statue still beside him, expression neutral, lips pressed into a thin line. Hoskins walks up to them, all cocky and swaggering with little eyes that see a lot less than they think. He doesn't step onto the porch, thankfully, but he's close enough that Owen can clearly see his smug smile. Still, Owen can feel Charlie's low growl and the sense of threat-intruder-threat-THREAT resonating within the bond.

"What do you need, Hoskins," Owen asks, just barely managing to keep his tone neutral.

"I'm here to check up on your little clubhouse, that's all. We haven't been getting your reports," Hoskins responds faux casually, though Owen can hear an undercurrent of annoyance.

"We've been sending any important reports to Dr. Wu," Barry retorts before Owen has a chance to open his mouth. "And we have not been getting any complaints from him. Or Masrani for that matter. If you have a problem, I suggest you consult them."

Barry is all cold, calm control, though Owen can see his fists beginning to shake. Owen stands and makes his way towards Hoskins, Charlie, Delta, and Echo at his heels and Blue curling herself tighter around his neck. Echo is getting hissy and Charlie's gone quiet. Owen has to get Hoskins to leave now before he has to pry tiny, sharp teeth from his body.

"Hoskins, your presence is bothering my raptors. I suggest you leave or you're going to have teeth marks all over those nice pants," Owen's request is heavily laced with sarcasm and injected with hisses and angry barks from his entourage.

Hoskins' face turns an interesting shade of red, then purple, but he steps back when Charlie steps forward, jaws snapping. Owen sends her a look and sharply orders her to stand down. She does so reluctantly, gazing at Hoskins' meaty leg with hungry eyes. Hoskins finally seems to get a clue because he storms away to his car, slams the door, and drives away.

At Charlie's ornery glare, he laughs and says, "Please Charlie, you already eat Oreos, you don't need that sort of junk food in your diet."

He smiles at the guffaw he manages to startle out of Barry.

* * *

His girls are just over knee high when he decides to take them on a tour of the park. The raptors are nowhere near fast enough to keep up with his bike yet and since Barry's out on the mainland to help with supply deliveries, Owen takes his truck. Charlie, Delta, and Echo take up the back seats and Blue makes herself comfortable in the the passenger's seat. He gets the stink eye and an angry bark for every bump he hits.

The park is closed for the day and the streets are empty of tourists when they arrive. Blue does her best to cling to his shoulder, but she's bigger and heavier and Owen's pretty sure that at this point she's going to end up tearing apart his shirt and shoulder.

"Sorry Blue, I know you just wanna stay close, but I promise you I won't stray out of your sight."

Blue is only slightly mollified by the constant reassurances that he won't get lost-physically or mentally.

The other park employees give him and his posse wary looks and do their absolute best to skitter around them. Owen ignores them. His girls aren't hungry and they're more curious than anything. Even if they were hungry, they know humans are not on the menu and they won't chase after something without Owen's say so. That won't stop Echo from scaring groups of pigeons, though.

They arrive at the Gentle Giants petting zoo without incident. Jamie and Rebecca, the main handlers for the baby dinosaurs, gaze at him suspiciously, not even trying to hide their unease. Owen grins at them and waves, noting with amusement that his raptors attempt to mimic his movements. He swears he sees Jamie (a man made of pure muscle with at least two feet on Owen) shiver in fear. Rebecca pales a little but waves right back.

(Owen has to hold back a cackle a week later when he receives the most amusing e-mail from Rebecca. He finds a picture of himself on his motorcycle, medieval garb photoshopped over his work clothes, surround by his girls. It comes with the caption "Mother of Raptors". Barry doesn't contain himself and his girls are left wondering what the hell is going on.)

They tour the park a while longer (Jasmine and Freddy, handlers of the masosaurus, have very different views of his little pack. Freddy is sure that his girls'll turn on him at any moment; Jasmine believes they'll wait till they're bigger to usurp him. Blue finds the whole idea absurd, if not amusing). The girls are particularly entertained by the gallimimus, but don't appreciate the Cretaceous Cruise.

Owen decides to take a break inside the t-rex viewing log, much to Ronald and Anita's displeasure. it's dark out now, the sun but a sliver of red-gold barely visible through thick foliage. He's tired and he can feel his mental shields beginning to slip a little. Blue's giving him a look that he easily interprets as concerned and exasperated in one.

Rexy's near, he realizes with a start. His eyes slip close at some point but he can tell she's there, pressed against the glass, her mind trying to breech through the pack's shields and towards him. A different, strange little ache takes presence in the back of his head and Blue begins to hiss, pressing up against him. Owen opens his eyes and meets the glowing yellow disks he spies outside the viewing glass.

It's time to go home then.

His girls are all too happy to agree, Blue pressed close to his side, her mind curling protectively around his and Charlie, Delta, and Echo push against his legs, urging him to go faster. They all pile into the front seat, disregarding the fact that they don't quite fit comfortably. Owen lets them though because he's tired, they're worried and the strange ache in the back of his head is turning into a sharp throb.

It's raining slightly by the time they get home, but it's fine, it's no big flashy storm and his girls can handle it just fine. As he enters, he chucks off his boots, slips off his vest and is in little more than a tank top and his boxers by the time he crawls into bed. The raptors follow him, easily avoiding the trail of clothing he leaves behind him. They curl around him, physically and mentally and when their worry doesn't immediately cease, he begins to croon a familiar tune.

"I can't stop this feeling, deep inside of me..." They all relax and Blue nuzzles into his neck, breath warm against soft skin. They're all out before Owen reaches the reprise, the phrase hooked on a feeling still lingering on his lips.

Three hours later, Owen is ripped from a dream (nightmare) filled wit teeth and claws and the sense of a new-found freedom by the sound of a grenade (no wait it's thunder) and a headache that threatens to tear him in two.

* * *

So Owen likes Blue Swede because I am weak. I have a general idea of where I'm going with this fic, but if you have ideas you'd like to see, pm or review and I'll totally consider them.

ps, reviews are like really encouraging so, please, if you have a the time, even a "please update soon" works!


	2. All That Was Lost is Revealed

**HOLY COW I DID NOT EXPECT SO MUCH ATTENTION FOR ONE CHAPTER IS THE REAL LIFE OR IS IT JUST FANTASY. Ahem. I am so grateful for all of your reviews and favorites and follows, like seriously. Like, I usually really suck at updating, but I had this ready in like three days wow.**

 ***Warning: there are mentions of animal death so if you're not comfortable with that you can skip over the section that begins with "Owen is five years old and his dog is dying" if you want. Just thought I'd warn just in case.**

 **Disclaimer: Sadly I am only a lonely highschool girl with too much time on her hands. I don't own Jurassic Park/World.**

* * *

 _There is awareness. With this awareness comes the darkness, deep and so black it is a void. The air is stale and thick with her own scent, her limbs feel heavy and burdened with a sticky fluid that restrains her movement in the enclosed space that is her prison. She struggles against her fluid bonds, tapping at the walls around her in an attempt to find weakness. She's curled up tightly, the space warm but unbearably tight and she scratches fiercely against the thick walls._

 _Finally, a crack. She taps furiously against it, crowing triumphantly when the void is penetrated by light. The new sensation is piercing and she has to blink a few times to adjust to the lack of darkness._

 _She looks out at the new world, white and bright and_ different _. It takes little more effort to smash through the rest of her prison, and suddenly the whiteness and brightness becomes so much more intense. Excitement and wonder mingle with hesitance and terror. It's freedom, but it's unfamiliar and she feels the need to curl up into a small ball, panicked chirps rushing through needle sharp teeth._

 _She startles when she hears an answering peep behind her and she turns to find another creature covered in the same sticky fluid as her. They are the same, she thinks, scared and unsure and looking for something comforting._

 _They sense it almost simultaneously._

 _Something far in the distance, a beacon, a fire, something far brighter and stronger than anything they've experienced so far. It's warm but it neither burns nor consumes and they race toward it, shredding through fragile defenses. They curl themselves around it, bury themselves in it until they're so intertwined they can't tell where they start and the beacon ends. This is_ _different, but it's a_ good _different. This is home, this is what they crave._

 _This is the light they don't ever want to leave._

 _Except, now they're being pulled away. They're being torn from each other and from the warm beacon and it hurts, the grasping hands are so very cold. She's back in her own body and she's not happy. She and her sister are being separated so they fight, they hiss and scratch and spit, drawing blood and not feeling an ounce of guilt for it._

 _They're put down, but the strange, huge creatures in white are still reaching out, still trying to take them away. She snaps at the reaching limbs, her sister's doing the same and all she really wants is to find the warm beacon again._

 _She wants to feel that sense of belonging. The sense of home._

 _Another creature in white appears, its eyes glinting dangerously. It says something, voice sharp and low, clearly an order. The other creatures in white (now stained with scarlet) flinch at its tone. She doesn't care and neither does her sister. Of its few words, they understood two. It's familiar, a name they had heard echoing within the beacon's warmth, connected to the beacon. It's a name, the name of their beacon._

 _Owen. They want Owen Grady._

* * *

Owen is five years old and his dog is dying.

He's shivering, the feeling of ice shards in his veins leaving him frozen despite the heat of the afternoon. His dog feels cold. The world around him is a blur and there doesn't seem to be much else besides his dog's chilling body, the lush grass beneath his crossed legs, and himself.

Except, he doesn't feel like he's there. Owen feels distant, faded, like the feeling he gets when he starting to fall asleep while watching tv and voices and actions begin to mesh together. He feels so old, stiff in the bones, but something tells him that these sensations aren't his. He rubs a tiny hand over his dog's big golden head, but even her soft fur is cool.

His grandmother finds him, surprisingly deep in the woods where he had wondered off. She gasps in surprise at the ruby liquid splashed on her grandson's arms and soaking into the dog's side. She pulls him away, easily severing the connection (his abilities only just developing) and wipes him down with the handkerchief in her pocket. He comes back to himself slowly, the sun's rays thawing away the feeling of freezing from the inside out.

" _You can't make connections like that anymore_ , Owen," his grandmother says, sounding more like she's whispering from far away than standing right beside him. " _Connections like that are_ dangerous."

* * *

Owen is ten years old and he's starting to realize that he's not quite like the other children. It both scares and thrills him.

He's a tiny little slip of a boy, composed of scrawny arms and knobby, band-aid covered knees. His bright red hair has him standing out like flare in the dark and this is all fine until the other boys decide he's an easy target. They think he's weird. They don't understand why he prefers to sit by himself with his animal books or why the one stray cat who literally hates everyone follows him around like a duckling.

It leaves him just a little resentful. It's not his fault they can't hear the bird's cheerful conversations through the classroom windows or feel the cat's annoyance at everyone trying to pick him up. He comes home with scrapes and bruises more often than not and sometimes it's okay and sometimes it's not.

Sometimes it doesn't matter at all because his new dog is rubbing against him, shooting _warmth-comfort_ in pleasant bolts. Still, he doesn't dare make a connection.

* * *

Owen is fifteen and he no longer needs to be in contact with an animal to be washed in tidal waves of emotion.

There's a constant migraine now, a throbbing or a beating of drums that doesn't let sleep come easy. Bird chatter feels like he's being peppered with small, sharp rocks and a dog's bark comes like a punch to the gut.

He builds shields.

They're thin, flimsy little things, like a cardboard wall around a nuclear core, but they do the job. The migraine becomes a headache and even that fades into a dull ache that he quickly becomes accustomed to. It's far better than the nauseating pain of too many voices and emotions milling in one place.

Then comes the day he encounters the mountain lion.

He's alone, taking the bike trail home, brushing through dark green foliage and kicking up storm clouds of dust behind him. It's late afternoon and the sun's beginning to sink behind dark clouds. Chilly air nips at his nose and ears, burns lightly in his lungs. He feels her before he sees her.

Owen comes to an abrupt stop, staring deep into woods and through underbrush to find a pair gleaming gold-green eyes. She roars and all of Owen's carefully constructed walls come tumbling down, leaving them as useless as crumpled paper. He claps his hands over his ears, not because her voice is terrible (though it is), but because her roar is exposing him to her every need and craving and want. She's growling _hunger-hunger-HUNGER_ and it feels as if she's raking her claws over his very soul.

In a burst of clarity, he gathers whatever strength he has left and projects his agony in a forceful whirlwind of fire and pain. It's a directionless assault and he knows he's hit innocent birds and possibly a few squirrels, but the mountain lion is backing away and that's what matters. She leaves, finally, and he's astonished he hasn't fallen to his knees. Owen wraps his arms tightly around his torso in an attempt to keep himself from falling apart. His bike lies abandoned behind him.

From then on he vows to make his shields stronger, thicker, steel instead of paper.

It never occurs to him that instead of blocking everything out, he should learn to control what filters in.

* * *

Owen is eighteen when he joins the navy SEALS and he's twenty-seven when he's he leaves.

He trains dogs and honestly it's one of his favorite things ever. He excels at it (how could he not?) and the things he could teach those animals is enough to catch interest and turn heads. The offer to join in a private project for Jurassic World comes when he's twenty-eight from Simon Masrani himself. Owen takes it.

He's told he's going to study the behavioral patterns velociraptors. The want him to _raise a pack of velociraptors and train them how to follow commands._

It's an insane idea, he thinks. It's a disaster waiting to happen. It's something he knows he can do.

He spends months, nearly a year, doing research on raptors and proving himself worthy of his degrees. He finds Muldoon's journal and Owen is grateful for the information inside (though the gist of is just Muldoon saying _good God these things are abominations_ ). The expeditions to Isla Sorna are helpful if not a bit overwhelming because the animals are _everywhere_. The herds are a low buzz in the back of his head and he can feel the t-rexes (multiple!) as angry little pinpricks between his eyes. And the raptors. He doesn't dare approach the raptors; their minds are too much like shards of glass or serrated, bloody knives.

Then there's the papers. Grant's work is factual but angry, Sattler is ice-cold professionalism, and Malcolm's papers are half fact, half sarcastic criticism. Even with all the work Owen's doing and with each visit to Isla Sorna, he promises not to get attached, not to forge a connection.

When Blue is born that promise is blown to pieces.

* * *

Owen is awake and the sound of thunder and distressed raptors envelope him. The ache in his head is still there, but he suppresses it, spreading a circle of _comfort_ and _safety_ to calm his girls down. Charlie and Delta settle, but Echo buries herself in his side (wow, she's gotten big) and Blue forces herself onto his lap. She refuses to move.

He takes a moment to relax, to let his girls bask in feeling of _warmth_ and _safety_ and he falls into a slight trance. The crackling of his radio on his beside table startles him, but he recovers quickly and reaches for it.

"... Grady? Is Mr. Owen Grady there?" croaks a hesitant voice. Owen doesn't recognize the lightly accented voice, but he assumes it must be one of the scientists. Claire- _ahem_ -Ms. Dearing calls him by his last name and those he works with call him Owen or his rank.

"Yeah, this is Owen," he rumbles, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"We, uh, Dr. Wu needs you at the lab. _Now_." The man on the other side of line starts out weakly, but by his last word, his tone brooks no argument.

"Yeah, sure I'll be there," Owen assures, reading the urgency in the man's voice. There is a bit more crackling from the radio and then silence.

He takes just one more breath, bracing himself against the wall and twisting his neck until he hears a satisfying crack. He begins to slip off the bed, but is stopped by the insistent tugs at his tank top and finds himself trapped beneath a pile of heavy, (over)protective raptors. Blue snaps at him, clearly saying he _shouldn't-can't-will NOT_ leave. Owen sighs and runs a soothing hand along her neck, doing the same for the others when they butt there heads against his chest.

"I don't know if they'll be too happy that I brought you with me, but since you insist I not leave your sight, if you stay on your best behavior you can come. If you can't be perfect ladies, I'm going to have to take you back to the truck and god knows Barry'll be thrilled to know I left you guys in there."

They consider for a moment, then Blue huffs her agreement. Owen gives them a small smile and gathers what clothes he can find scattered on the floor. He winces at a particularly sharp stab of pain in his head, but waves away Blue's concern.

It's raining harder now and his girls don't appreciate the flashes of lighting nor the booms of thunder. The ride to the labs is a little more treacherous and Owen can hardly see through the sheets of rain that pound obnoxiously at his windshield. The road seems bumpier now and it puts his girls on edge. He opens up the link, letting the pack settle into its familiarity and humming in concentration to ignore the increasingly frantic throbbing of his head.

By the time he arrives at the labs, the rain has mercifully receded into a light shower and his girls are much calmer. He has time to usher the pack out of the truck before there's a gaggle of people in white pushing him into the building. The raptors rush after him and it's only a sharp whistle from Owen that keeps the nearest scientist from losing a leg.

Regardless, they loosen their formation around him and allow the raptors to catch up, though they do urge him to hurry. The elevator ride to the main floor is quite possibly the most awkward thing ever (possibly more awkward than his one date with Claire Dearing where he had shown up in board shorts because Echo thought it would be funny to chew up his one pair of good jeans and Claire had brought a freaking _itinerary_ ). Scratch that, he doesn't think there's anything more awkward than that date. That was a complete disaster. The elevator ride is a close second, though.

The group of scientists are all huddled up in one corner, vibrating with nervous energy while Owen and his squad take up the other side, all tapping impatiently, the raptors their sickle claws on the floor and Owen the knife at his hip. Otherwise, there is silence until the elevator _dings_ and the doors swish open. The scientists scurry out, dragging him along with them.

Owen doesn't exactly know what to expect when he enters the private lab, but two pairs of crimson eyes landing on him in the sudden quiet isn't it.

He vaguely notes that the ache in his head has receded (that it was these two creatures causing it). They remind him of raptors, from the way that they hold themselves to the intelligent glint in their ruby eyes, but raptors they are not. Not fully at least. They're white, one like snow, the other like bone and the backs of their necks are freckled with little spikes. Their heads are wider, more like Rexy than the sleek shape of his raptors. Something sick twists in his stomach, and it has nothing to do with the blood slicked on their teeth.

Owen approaches them slowly, signaling for his girls to stay back. Blue barks at him, willing him to stay away from the strange creatures that had somehow wormed their way into the bond. He whistles at her, both a command to stay back and an assurance that he'll be fine.

"What are they?" he whispers, tone low with a hint of danger.

It's Wu who answers. "Indominus Rex. Part tyrannosaurus-"

"Part raptor," Owen finishes. Someone in the back gasps, as if it's supposed to be some big secret.

He pays it no mind. He's within touching distance (potentially biting distance), but he's not afraid. Owen has no reason to. His name bounces around his head, resonating within the newly formed link, a mantra of _Owen, Owen, Owen_! The two hybrids are scared and confused and more than a little apprehensive. They're newborns, he realizes. Though they're already the size of cats, he can see amniotic fluid drying on their pale scales. He croons gently at them, embracing them in the bond (Blue's disgruntled, but Owen knows she can deal; Echo's just happy to not be the youngest anymore).

The two Indominuses race toward him and while the scientists stiffen, Owen feels all the tension drain from his shoulders. They brush up against him, reach out with their minds and Owen lets them. With a grin on his face, he motions his pack over. They're wary still (Blue especially), but they trust his judgement. The Indominuses seem tiny compared to his older raptors (who aren't even their full size), but he figure if there's rex in them, they'll get far bigger.

"Okay girls, meet the pack. That there is my beta, Blue. She's in charge when I'm gone," he says, sending a wink to his best girl. She snorts, but it's humored. He continues to point out his girls. "That there is Charlie, she's moody sometimes, but she's a big softy; next to her is Delta, believe me she will eat you out of house and home; and that little ray of sunshine is Echo."

They warble at each other in greeting and it warms Owen's heart that they're getting along. He eyes his two new girls, warm under his hands. They need names... An idea strikes him.

"Blue, Charlie, Delta, Echo, I'd like you to meet your new pack mates," he points to the snowy one, "Roma," then to the bone-white one, "and Venizia." He smiles cheerfully, not at all aware of the looks of disbelief that are sent at him. As far as he knows, those are perfectly good names and the Indominuses don't seem to mind.

Henry Wu steps up to him, mindful of snapping jaws.

"What makes you think these assets are for you, Mr. Grady? These are meant to be an attraction, not an assignment," asks Wu, voice and expression carefully blank.

It takes all of Owen's willpower not to tense.

"Do you know of anyone else who would raise them until they're ready? You know raptors are social animals and even rexes travel in families. To raise them from a distance would be to raise a couple of sociopaths," Owen returns evenly.

Wu is quiet for a moment, lips thin, eyes considering.

"If you're doing this then you'll have to be part of the attraction when its ready. Are you prepared for the dangers of handling a large, dangerous animal in front of a crowd? Let alone two?" Wu challenges with a raised brow.

Owen has to swallow at the thought. It's not handling Roma and Venizia that bothers him, it's the thought of hundreds of people watching his every move. But then his girls are wrapping themselves around him, both physically and mentally as is their habit and the two i-rexes are nuzzling his hands and he knows they will support him the way he supports them. His blue-green eyes shine with determination.

"I'll be able to handle it," he promises. Wu doesn't look surprised.

"I'll call Ms. Dearing then; she needs to know there's been a change of plans with the assets. The Indominuses, er, Roma and Venizia, need to stay a while for the medical check up. You know the drill, however I do suggest you stay with them."

Owen blinks. Distantly, he notes that the groups of scientists that had filled the room had disappeared at some point. It's unimportant though, and he's nodding his head, grinning like a loon, holding his girls close to him.

* * *

The rain has stopped, but Owen still encounters a slight problem when they arrive home.

The bed is too small to fit the seven of them. It had been growing smaller as his girls grew bigger and with the new additions there's hardly enough space to fit them all without running the risk of someone falling off.

"Looks like we're gonna have to puppy pile until I can get Barry to get me a bigger bed," he laments. Owen's too tired to come up with a better idea and exhaustion hangs on his bones.

He grabs all the blankets and pillows he can find lying around the house (which is surprisingly a lot) and piles them on the floor next to his bed. He strips himself of excess clothing and crawls onto the thick pile of blankets. His girls crowd around him, finding a new formation now that they have two additions. Charlie and Delta cuddle on his left side, Roma and Venizia take his right. Echo gives a sleepy chirp before plopping heavily on his stomach (as always careful of her claws) and Blue's breathing is in sync with his as she curls up by his head.

Owen falls asleep covered in dangerous predators, feeling safer in their circle than in the company of any human.

* * *

 **So here we go, chapter two! Just remember, reviews are like the most encouraging thing ever I'm totally open for ideas. You could even pm me or ask me things on my tumblr (url Alcors-floating-hat)**

 **Good day, you beautiful people.**


	3. Wherever I Go, Trouble Seems to Find Out

**Hey guys this is really rushed but the library's closing soon and I won't be able update an a while do to a trip to Mexico so I hope this is good enough for now and I'll try to fix things mistakes when I get back.**

 ***Insert witty remark about how I don't own Jurassic World***

* * *

The day Barry Provaire meets Owen Grady, it's hot, it's humid and he's covered in triceratops shit. Owen's on the mainland, waiting for his escort onto the island and Barry finds him drinking what appears to be his fifth cup of coffee at an outdoor cafe. He looks just a little younger than Barry, his brilliant eyes seem sharp with awareness and his red-brown hair gleams in the sun. The picture in the profile Barry had received did not do him justice.

What _does_ catches him off-guard, though, are the two small cats perched on his shoulders. He's cooing at them, running a finger delicately over their heads. They nuzzle against him, purring and making little sounds of content. He pads over, steps silent whispers on gravel. Barry assumes it's the smell that alerts Grady of his presence because the cats hiss, the man's nose wrinkles and he's already giving him a wary look by the time Barry finds himself standing by his chair.

"I hope you know pets aren't allowed on the island," Barry sighs. This isn't actually the first time he's dealt with this.

"I hope you know it's probably illegal to smell that bad," Grady retorts, startling a snort out of Barry.

"Working with dinosaurs isn't all fun and games."

At the mention of dinosaurs, Grady's eyes light up and an excited grin pulls at his lips. Barry figures that was his own expression when they first recruited him for Jurassic World. Granted, back then he hadn't been aware of the messier things he'd have to do. The cats on Grady's shoulders mew, and he goes back to petting them. Barry raises an eyebrow.

"They're not actually my cats," says Grady defensively, though Barry is sure he sees something like sheepishness creep into his eyes.

"Whose are they?" Barry questions, just out of curiosity. Grady shrugs and looks at his nearly empty coffee cup as if it's the most fascinating thing in the universe.

"They probably belong to someone. Maybe. I just found them hanging around when I got here," he answers evasively.

Before Barry has a chance to question him further, Grady shoos the cats off his shoulders, picks up the two large duffle bags at his feet (Barry hadn't noticed them earlier), and drains the last of his coffee.

"I think it's time to get going. I'm Owen by the way. Owen Grady, but you can call me Owen."

Barry doesn't tell him that he already knows his name, that he knew who he was the second he saw his face. Instead, he holds out his hand and grins when Owen takes it in a firm grip.

"Barry Provaire, welcome aboard Owen."

* * *

Owen's expression at the sight of the island is almost worth being out in unacceptably hot weather and smelling like he's been rolling around in shit for an hour (which isn't far off actually). His mouth hangs slightly open, just enough to see a glimpse of his teeth and the edges twitch as if fighting a smile. His eyes are huge and Barry is reminded of the clear lakes he would swim in as child. They're also dazed and unfocused, like Owen's fallen into some kind of trance.

Barry has a moment feel concern begin to build and then Owen's whipping around to face him, looking as if he's experienced something life-changing. There's something just little bit off with his tone when he says, "This is going to be awesome."

Barry shivers at it, the ferocity in Owen's eyes looking a little too wild and his smile a little to feral for his liking. He shrugs it off though, figures it's just one of the excentrities of Jurassic World's newest employee. One would have to be just a little bit off their rocker to agree to take on raptors after all.

* * *

It's three days later and Barry's been assigned as Owen's trainer and guide until the raptor eggs are finally developed. He doesn't mind as much as he thought he might.

Owen seems to have a... _way_ with animals. Barry takes him on a tour of the park bright and early in the morning, a good two hours before it opens. They start out in the petting zoo and the babies flock to them like bees to pollen. Owen holds only soft smiles and gentle hands for the juveniles that crowd his space, though Barry has to laugh at the new holes in his clothes from clumsy triceratops horns.

In the gallimimus enclosure, Owen's window is impossible to see through due to the sheer number of dinosaurs blocking it. There's a look in Owen's eyes, not quite wild, but exhilarated. To Barry, it seems that Owen is feeling the rush of wind against him, as if he's out there rushing through the plains with the gallimimus. It's something Barry pushes to the back of his mind to mull about later.

Barry nearly regrets taking Owen to see the predators. There's a manic energy about him that he didn't have around the herbivores. Around them he had been calm, controlled almost. He's neither of those now. He's buzzing, practically vibrating and Barry's pretty sure Owen isn't aware of it. When they actually get to the suchomimus enclosure Barry thinks he prefers the frantic energy.

They don't enter, of course, they're only there to observe the handlers work. She's there though, watching them, eyes burning with something that's not quite hunger. Owen suddenly becomes stock still beside him and for a moment Barry believes he's frozen with fear. He turns to him, a reassurance about the fence ready on his tongue when he catches sight of Owen's expression. His blue-green eyes mirror the fire in those of the suchomimus, Martha. He's not moving, barely breathing, but it's very clear it isn't from fear. He has very similar reactions to the rest of the predators and it leaves Barry a little unsettled.

Owen is deadly silent when they check out the rex log, a distant expression on his face. When Rexy appears, Owen doesn't even flinch, instead looks her dead in the eyes as if he knew exactly where she had been. She huffs and stomps away, not at all interested. Barry swings an arm around Owen's shoulders and shows him out. Though he doesn't know if he can take more of Owen's strange reactions to the animals (or the animal's strange reactions to him) Barry takes him to the last stage of the tour, the mosasaurus.

To Barry's relief, Owen seems to regain himself and he's much calmer. There's still that strange little glint in his eyes, like he's somewhere far away, but he's neither vibrating nor standing like he's about to pounce on something.

Owen thanks him for the tour with lunch at Winston's Streak House and beer. Barry drives him back to his newly built bungalow (made at Owen's request to have some privacy and a place near where the future raptor paddock would be). Barry is content with his apartment in the more central part of the island.

In a week they have their first expeditions to Isla Sorna to check out the behavioral patterns of the animals there.

* * *

When they arrive on Isla Sorna, Owen's sporting a look on his face that's half thrill, half _my-head-is-about-to-explode-unless-someone-gets-me-some-goddanm-painkillers-this-instant._

The whole time they spend there, Owen spends it gazing out deep into the woods, as though his eyes see something no one else can. Barry doesn't have time to be worried though, not when they need to be constantly on the move. Luckily they don't encounter anything worse than a few compies (though even those leave them with several scars).

Having been with the park for a while, Barry knows how the herd animals work. He knows they feed and they move and on occasion they fight for right of alpha, but they don't do much else. He never gets tired of seeing them. However, there's something different about watching them out in the wild, something breathtaking. The wild herd animals on Isla Sorna have distinctive markings and colors, unlike the more earthy-colored animals back on Isla Nublar.

He's constantly at Owen's side, exchanging notes, observing and writing things down. He's a little wary of the strange little glimmer in Owen's eyes, but as time goes on, he finds he's growing fond of it, finds he's growing fond of Owen. He's quick and witty and he shows the utmost respect to the animals. Back on Nublar (and even in the lull between moving on Sorna), Owen works diligently on his research.

Barry finds he worries about Owen. A lot. He spaces out more often than Barry would like and he seems a bit awkward around the other handlers. He's confident still, but he has trouble carrying on a conversation and Barry gets the feeling Owen hasn't done much social interaction outside the military. At least the charm and charisma stay, if a bit stilted. There's also the headaches. Sometimes, on expeditions to Isla Sorna, Barry will wake to find Owen curled tightly on himself, hands clasped over his head as if they're the only thing keeping it from splitting in two.

Owen promises he's fine, but Barry finds it hard to believe. He keeps an eye on him all the same.

* * *

Barry is there when Owen gets the call that the eggs are ready.

They're in the bungalow, discussing the finer points of Dr. Alan Grant's findings on raptor vocalization when Owen's walkie-talkie begins to crackle. Barry doesn't pay it much attention, looking over the papers while Owen goes to pick it up. Something that sounds distinctly like steam hissing from a kettle has him dropping half his stack and twirling around to see Owen practically vibrating, the talkie clenched tightly in his hands. Barry cautiously approaches him, one eyebrow raised.

"The eggs are ready," he says, voice a trembling whisper that Barry has to strain to hear.

"The eggs are ready, oh God, Barry we have eggs!" And suddenly his he's explosive energy, gathering a button up to put over his tank top and a pair of (possibly mismatched) boots. He stumbles into the shirt and nearly trips putting on the boots, then hustles Barry out the door and to the truck. There are still pages in his hand.

By the time they arrive at the labs, Barry's sure they've almost died at least thrice and he's concerned Owen might vibrate right out of his skin. They find Dr. Wu waiting for them, amusement bright in his dark eyes. He leads them through the building and into an elevator. Owen spends the next minute and a half tapping rapidly against the knife that seems to be welded to his hip (there's very few times that Barry's actually seen him take it off) and putting the other occupants on edge.

Barry sighs audibly when the elevator stops and the doors swish open.

Owen doesn't calm down until he's standing in front of an incubator, five eggs nestled neatly inside. He goes very still and looks at them the way one might look at an aurora borealis when observing it for the first time.

"They're here, Barry", he says in hushed tones. His awe is infectious and Barry's giving him a watery smile, feeling a rush of warmth in his chest.

"Yeah," he says just as quietly, "they're here."

* * *

Barry, sadly, is not on the island when the eggs hatch. He's off helping with supply deliveries and the eggs aren't due to hatch for at least another few days.

When he returns to the island, Claire Dearing herself is on him and she doesn't look to happy. She tells him about the eggs, how they hatched and how four out of five died overnight. She tells him about Owen and how he's done nothing but mope in the bungalow and how no one's seen him days. He e-mails his reports to Wu and occasionally appears to fetch more meat for his remaining raptor, but otherwise he is a recluse. Barry can hear the worry in her tone, hidden beneath a layer of annoyance. He gets the message; check on Owen and make sure he's okay.

He sets off for the restricted area without much prompting and arrives to see Owen stretched out on the hammock, a tiny animal (a _velociraptor_ ) curled up on his chest. Owen's eyes are very, very blank. It's not the hazy vacancy he has when he looks off into the distance, nor is it the trance-like cloudiness that shows up when he's around animals. No, it's just blank emptiness, like Owen's body is there, but his mind is far away.

Barry approaches them slowly, wary of the very awake raptor and the glare she's shooting at him.

"Owen?" Barry calls softly.

Owen starts slightly and the raptor's glare intensifies for a moment before she's cooing softly at the human she's curled on. Owen smiles softly at her, though it turns into a grimace when she slips a little and her claws sink slightly through his shirt. She chirps in apology and Owen slides a finger down her back.

"You okay?" Barry asks, just a little wary, still.

"I'll be fine," Owen answers, smile weak but genuine.

"I gotta introduce you to someone." He taps the raptor gently on her nose and says, "Barry, this is Blue, she's my best girl. Blue, meet Barry, he's my best friend."

Blue relaxes, just marginally. In time, Barry and her learn to trust each other almost as much as they trust Owen.

* * *

In the two months it takes for the new batch to be delivered, Barry is witness to the amazing relationship between Blue and Owen. When he finally recovers from the heartbreak of losing the first clutch and Owen goes back to doing rounds around the park, he takes Blue _everywhere_ with him. There's a few places Owen can't take her and instead leaves her in Barry's care. She's a good girl for him and Owen's proud of that fact. She isn't very friendly to most other people though and when she's in distress she'll call out until someone has to run and get Owen. Barry is amused to learn she spends most of her time outside the restricted area in either Owen's pockets or around his neck.

They fall into a pretty routine schedule (or a least as routine as it could possibly be with a man walking around with a raptor on his shoulder like a vicious parrot with needle sharp teeth).

And then the second batch of eggs begin to hatch.

* * *

He doesn't know he's fallen asleep until Owen is at his side and shaking him into wakefulness. Barry sputters a little, cursing in something distinctly not English. Owen chuckles at him and tells him not to say such things around children. He's bemused to see Blue curled around Owen's neck, giving him a toothy parody of Owen's smirk.

"Why am I awake, Owen," Barry groans. At that Owen begins to vibrate and he swears Blue shudders.

"The eggs are hatching!" he hisses.

"What already? When did Dr. Wu call you?" Barry startles, wide-eyed.

"He hasn't!" is Owen's response, but before Barry can question him further is out the door and Barry has to scramble after him. There's no way in hell he's letting him drive again (he still has nightmares about crashing from when they first called Owen to tell him about the eggs being made).

Barry is reminded of the time they went to see the first batch of eggs. Owen's frantic energy has calmed, but he's still smiling like a maniac an Blue's making excited little croons.

When they arrive at lab, Wu and the other scientists start at their sudden appearance.

"Mr. Grady, I was just about to call you-" he's cut off by Owen rushing by him, hardly giving him a second glance and heading straight for the incubator. Wu presses his lips together, but clears the room.

Barry can see the raptors hatching through the observatory window, can see the look of bliss on Owen's face as he cleans them up and gathers them into his lap, giving them a quick feeding from the bowl by his side. He feels warm, and he's glad they chose Owen Grady for the raptor program. He doubts anyone else would have looked at those animals with such love. Perhaps the same wonder and awe, perhaps a bit of fear, but never with such love. There's not even an ounce of fear in Owen's eyes as he gently pets the nose of the tiny raptor who had tried to snap at his finger.

Barry's pretty sure they've chosen the perfect man for the job.

* * *

The most amusing thing, Barry thinks, is the reaction people have when they realize Owen is the raptor handler.

They're all confident and cocky or flirty until they see the golden eyes shining from the confines of Owen's huge pockets or they see the raptor perched on his shoulder. That's usually when they begin to back away slowly. When Owen tilts his head in confusion and his girls mimic him (which Barry thinks is adorable), people begin to run. Barry thinks it's hilarious. Owen calls him an asshole. Barry suspects his girls also laugh.

Other people like to make jokes, harmless things like calling Owen 'raptor mom' or 'alpha mom' or some variation thereof and even Owen finds those kind of funny. He takes the teasing in stride and feeds his girls bits of his burger when they refrain from biting anyone who comes within range. Still, there are others, mainly the handlers, who are wary of him. They watch him with suspicious eyes, memories of how the animals react to him vivid in their minds.

Sometimes Barry wonders about it too.

He's sure someone would have lost a limb if not for Owen being there at the right time and place. Barry's noticed that since his girls were born, Owen's been more rested and that he doesn't space out as much. When his eyes do glaze over and his expression becomes vacant, it doesn't take long for Blue to nudge him out of it, crowing softly and barking happily when she gets a response from him. Sometimes Barry is sure that Owen's communicating with them, impossible as it seems.

He buries the though, convincing himself he's imagining things. Then one day Barry comes over to the bungalow and he sees Owen talking to the raptors. It's like they're talking back, though how Owen understands the barks and cheeps and clicks is beyond Barry. Owen catches his eye and an unusual sort of determination settles on his face.

Owen tells him about his abilities.

Barry doesn't him believe him at first. Of course he doesn't, it's ridiculous that anyone could form a mental (psychic) connection with an animal. But the girls are taking formation around Owen and Blue's looking him in the eye, challenge blazing in golden pools. She's so young (they all are), but he can see the intelligence burning within is very real.

Barry believes and Barry promises to protect this secret because Owen's his friend and the girls are important to him. He shudders to think what would happen to them if it ever got out.

* * *

Barry is both unamused and unsurprised when he drives over to the bungalow through mud and around fallen branches to find Owen asleep on the floor surrounded by raptors (and two strange new additions). This is a lie. It's very amusing to see a grown man curled up like a child and covered in dinosaurs. He's also very surprised by the two new additions. They're not like anything he's ever seen and while he has confidence in Owen's abilities, he not sure about those two.

He gives the sleeping man's shin a gentle kick and when that doesn't work he kicks a little harder. Owen startles awake, eyes wide and wild. The raptors screech in alarm and Blue flies in front of her alpha, capable and ready to tear anything apart even in her young age. The other girls follow suit, crowding Owen and the smaller additions between them.

Barry can't help the laugh that explodes from his mouth.

The girls deflate, Blue turns her back on him to check on Owen, Charlie snaps her jaws at him before wandering off (in search of something to chew on probably), and Delta follows her. Echo gives him look that clearly states how displeased she is with him.

"Hey Barry, you gave us a bit o a scare," Owen grumbles, holding the cat-sized white dinosaurs(?) to his chest. Barry chuckles a little more.

"No kidding. Who are they?" he nods towards the two strange little creatures in Owen's arms.

"Oh, this is Roma and Venizia, the first and probably last of their kind."

"Which would be..."

"Indominus rex, part raptor, part t-rex."

Barry is silent for a moment then snorts.

"Scientists, mon dieu."

Owen makes a sound of agreement. then he's putting the two girls down and ushering them in Barry's direction. They stubbornly refuse to move from behind his legs.

"C'mon girls, it's just Barry. He's a good guy, I promise. Barry's my best friend." Blue gives them a few nudges and encouraging chirps to go with Owen's words.

They shyly move in front of him. Barry gazes at them and they gaze back and it isn't until Barry gives them a soft smile that they relax. If the Alpha trusts him, then so do they.

* * *

 **Mkay so I'm planning on making next chapter about Owen and the squad before we get to the plot so if there's anything you want to see let me know!**

 **Remember, reviews give me inspiration and encouragement to write.**


	4. I Wanna See Your Animal Side

**Look whose back! Mexico was great, I rode a public bus for the first time. Like, yeah I've ridden a school bus but that was mostly for football games and theatre competition, trust me it's not the same. I also rode a taxi for the first. (I'm sorry I live in a teeny-tiny town in Texas where I can literally bike anywhere we don't have much here lol). Anyways, so this chapter ended up being freaking massive and I didn't want it too long, so I split it. The rest should be uploaded by Monday. And hey, for those of those who can see it, what do y'all think of my new cover? I drew it at like one am because I was having trouble sleeping good god. Oh! And I've recently fallen into an obsession with Daredevil, the nextflix series, and I've sort of been crying about for like the past week? And then I found out the dude who plays Hoskins plays the main antagonist of season one and I'm just floored because how can I hate Hoskins so much but Fisk, who literally decapitated a man with a car door, is an awkward ray of evil sunshine? Matt Murdock is still my fave though. Ah, and there were even more tears when I caught up with Hannibal (literally what the fuck), Gravity Falls, and Steven Universe. I'm sorry, I'm a child I know.**

 **Disclaimer: I was gonna say something witty about how I don't own Jurassic World but I got distracted by the shelf of trashy romance novels that my favorite computer at the library is set next to.**

* * *

It takes Roma and Venizia a little less than a month to catch up to the rest of the pack and by then they reach Owen's mid-thigh. Blue is slightly bigger, nearly reaching his waist, but she's his oldest so this isn't really unusual.

The day is sweltering, Owen is choking on the heat and he decides to put all training aside until he teaches his girls the most important thing to survive the weather. Owen is dead set on teaching his girls to swim and there is nothing either Ingen or Hoskins can do to stop him. He's in his boxers (no one's allowed to judge because he came on the island with the understanding that he'd be training dinosaurs, not swimming) and he's steadily making his way towards the lake just behind his bungalow.

His girls follow, Blue by his side and the others a step behind him. He can feel their emotions mingling in the link, curiosity, excitement, a tiny bit of wariness whirling around him. Owen let's his own excitement color the bond, laced with calm reassurance to assure his girls there is no need to be anxious. He practically skips to the lake's edge, a wide grin brightening his face. The girls are bright sparks in his mind, Blue a burning flare and their energy is buzzing through the air, tingling in his veins.

Owen dips a careful toe into the sparkling, clear water, jumping slightly at the cold but laughing delightedly at the shiver that runs up his spine. He shakes off his precaution and wades in deeper, enamored with the chill that hisses against his terribly hot skin. He stops when the water reaches his waist and squats down, just enough that the cool liquid laps at his shoulders. He cups his hands, lets water pool in them and washes his face, sighing at the coolness it leaves him with. Owen lowers himself until his head disappears beneath the gentle waves and when he slips back out, his hair is a soggy mess, darkened to a crisp brown by the water.

Blue is watching him from across the expanse of water separating them, a mix of exasperation and confusion gleaming in her eyes. Roma and Venizia are sharing a look, and Owen suspects they're questioning his sanity. They've never submersed themselves in water before, Owen usually just splashes them with the hose to wash away the day's layer of dust and dirt.

"C'mon girls, the water's fine!" he calls, hoping to coerce them into the water.

He wades back into the shallower part, hoping to entice his girls into coming in. Blue examines the water a bit more, taking in the glimmering surface, the clarity of the gentle waves. Her sisters are watching her now, looking on with rapt attention as she copies Owen and lowers one clawed toe into the water. The coolness catches her off guard, if her expression (and the shock that ripples through the bond) is anything to go by. She hisses at it a bit, pinning Owen with a betrayed glare. Owen chuckles, splashing the water in her direction. Echo snaps at the falling droplets, perplexed but pleasantly surprised when they do little more than slide soothingly down her throat. Blue simply shakes it off.

It doesn't take long for Owen to convince his girls that the lake is perfectly safe (though Charlie, Delta, and Roma are initially reluctant).They take to swimming far better than Owen had expected them to and he finds himself splashing water, laughing too hard to breath, and chasing after Venizia and Roma when they team up to drag him underwater. Echo chitters, shoving water at Delta with her nose and squealing when her sister returns with a volley of her own. Blue swims in lazy circles in the deeper part of the lake, easily fending off the occasional assault from Charlie. Content floats through the bond, a pleasant and light fog that makes Owen feel just a bit buzzy.

Roma gently bumps his side, nuzzling against his ribs. He chuckles, rubbing her nose and giving Venizia the same attention when she taps his ticklish stomach. Blue croons from a little further away, melting under the water and resurfacing, little drops of clear liquid sliding off her sleek skin.

Owen closes his eyes, humming, and he's pretty sure Venizia is trying to copy his tune. She's making a soft, guttural noise in the back of her throat that makes her vibrate slightly. It could almost be purring. Owen is so caught up in the gratifying wholeness of the bond that he almost misses it. Blue alerts them and Owen's sharp ears catch the sound of a slamming (car) door and the crunch of booted feet on rock and dirt. His girls are calm, so it's likely someone they know and Charlie doesn't look like she's about to bite something so it's definitely not Hoskins. That leaves a limited number of people and Owen is sure he knows who it is.

"Owen!?" calls a somewhat confused (and concerned) voice from the other side of the bungalow. It confirms Owen's suspicions.

"Over here!" he calls, the pack barking out their own _heres_.

And then Barry walks over, brows furrowed, his expression clearly reading _what the hell are you doing_. Charlie squawks at him, and Owen can feel her vibrant cheer.

"I. Owen. Owen why did you teach them how to swim. That was a terrible idea."

"Yeah, I beg to differ. They _love_ swimming, Barry. Love it." The girls bark their agreement.

Barry sighs, resignation clear in the slump of his shoulders. The look he's giving them holds mostly disapproval.

(Owen guesses he would adamantly deny the amusement that he doesn't hide quite as well as he should.)

"Wanna join us?" Owen cajoles, knowing perfectly well Barry can't because he's got to go turn in Owen's freshly written reports. Barry gives him another _look_. Owen laughs because he's a shameless ass and everyone knows it.

"Goodbye Owen, goodbye girls. Don't let your idiot Alpha drown." Owen huffs and when his girls chitter in agreement, he pouts.

"I will not drown. It is not possible to drown where I'm standing, it's too shallow."

"The kiddie pool at the Intern Welcome Party."

"We swore never to bring that up, Barry, we almost literally swallowed keys."

The girls watch their Alpha and his friend banter for a while, mostly amused (vaguely alarmed) at the memories that flicker briefly through the bond. It's calm, the waves lax, the banter friendly if not a bit odd. It's quite the surprise when the scent of copper hits the air. The back-and-forth comes to an abrupt end and the pack freezes. Owen blinks.

"Owen, your nose is bleeding."

"Um."

"Why is your nose bleeding."

Owen concentrates on staunching the flow with only his hands and failing; there's thick, scarlet liquid streaming through his fingers and staining the clear waves of the lake. Blue swims to him, chuffing in concern, and the rest of the pack isn't far behind. Charlie and Delta are circling him, eyes wandering in an attempt to find whatever it was that dare hurt their Alpha.

"Id's fine, id's fine," Owen says, voice muffled. "Id's jusd de weader, I ged nose bleeds when id geds doo hod."

He soothes his girls, convincing him he's alright and that he won't fall over and die the second they look away. When he manages to accomplish that, he wades out of the lake and accepts the slightly filthy rag Barry offers him. He sighs and gives Barry a pleading look. Barry's stare is deadpan, but he whistles and Owen informs his girls that Barry is his temporary whistler until he can get his nose situation handled. They head for the bungalow, the girls (while assured that he won't suddenly collapse) forming a loose formation around him.

It takes a few minutes for the bleeding to stop and washing the blood off his hands and face actually takes a bit of effort. Barry's rag, stained beyond repair, goes in the trash bin. Owen is still probably going to have to take an icy shower and find something cold to put on his head.

"So... I take it this doesn't happen often."

"Only when it's hot enough to cook eggs on the sidewalk and I've been a little too active."

"... Should I stay?"

"I'll be fine."

Barry gives him one more _look_ before he leaves, a blend of concerned and amused. Owen owes him a new rag. He waits until he hears the front door slam and the distant rumble of Barry's truck leaving. He probably forgot to grab Owen's reports. Then he turns to his girls.

"So, wanna go back into the nice cold water? I can almost grantee there'll be no more blood." He gets a chorus of delighted chirps in response.

* * *

When Owen is told about the interns, he's assured they'll just look in, he'll talk to them for a bit, and they'll be on their way. This is fine, the girls won't even have to make an appearance so no idiotic kid hoping to be the next Steve Irwin has to lose a finger. Owen okays it.

Except. They don't send him a notice telling him the exact date and time of the Intern Field Trip Day.

Ideally, his girls would be chilling the temporary raptor paddock Owen and Barry built (neither Owen's bed nor the house could support six growing animals and an adult human male) by Owen's garage. Owen spends more time sleeping there than in his own bed, but only Barry needs to know that. His girls, however, are not in the temporary paddock.

No, his girls are out and about, doing quick warm up exercises and getting ready for a short patrol in the the restricted zone for a hunting drill.

A black bus, complete with the Jurassic World logo painted on its side, arrives. Owen is saddling the lighter equipment onto Roma and Venizia. As his sturdiest girls, the weight doesn't bother them, and Venizia in particular takes pleasure in showing off her load, much to Blue's consternation. It earns her many a growl.

The interns and some security members are stepping off the bus and Owen is not happy. Subsequently, neither are his girls. He swallows the growl that threatens to burst past his lips and bites back the urge to bare his teeth; he is an adult _human_ , not a raptor and he'll be damned if he lets someone think otherwise. Delta and Charlie have no such reservations. Blue watches them with cold, cold eyes and swishes her tail in a way Owen knows well. She's assessing the threat. Roma and Venizia bracket him and though they've only just grown to hip height, he knows they can cause terrible damage. Their scales flicker a blaring shade of red (a skill discovered when Barry had startled them so bad they turned purple). Echo warbles and the others chuff in agreement, the word _intruders_ ricocheting within the bond.

Someone should have told him. Barry, Hoskins, _Claire_ , literally anyone should have left him some sort of memo so he could be prepared.

Instead, he's surrounded by a pack of territorial and _deadly_ animals, completely unprepared for the appearance of about twenty college kids, a guide, and three Ingen security guards.

Owen could cry.

Owen will not cry. At least, if someone loses a limb, it's not entirely his fault.

He extracts himself from the pack's protective circle, signaling for them to _stand down_. Blue hisses, low and angry, but concedes. She snaps at the others to get back and they do so reluctantly. Owen nods at them, humming his approval and marches over the large group. He's getting ready to tear into the guide and the security about the stupidity of not warning him of their arrival when his phone vibrates. He pauses mid-stride, head tilted, and reaches for his phone. There's a single message there from an unknown number.

It reads: _heads up, you got_ _visitors_.

Owen could kill a man. Owen will do his best to not kill a man.

...

Adam Heinaman has a very specific picture in mind when he thinks of Owen Grady. The picture is one of man, a very tall, very muscular man. A body builder type with squinty eyes and biceps bigger than his brain. He imagines arrogance and superiority, an alpha male type with no actual regard for the animals he's training or the humans he's working with. In his mind, he sees sun bleached blond hair and muddy brown eyes. He also imagines him to be very aggressive. And possibly insane. What type of sane, normal person decides that yeah, taking on _raptors_ is a _good idea_?

Owen Grady does not at all fit in the canvas Adam painted him on. He's tall, yes, but he's not seven feet of hulking muscle. No, Owen is built of lean muscle and sleek, practical lines. His eyes are wide and sharp and focused (and a startling shade of blue-and-green that pierces souls). His hair gleams pale ginger verging on brown in the sun and he stands ramrod straight, shoulders squared, radiating the sort of calm confidence that speaks of a cool head in a hot situation. Those eyes (as bright and clear as the glint of the sun on the lake behind the bungalow) burn with intelligence and something similar sparks in the eyes of the raptors ( _holy shit raptors!)_ that surround him.

Adam gulps.

Grady's ( _sharp, fierce, some-what confused_ ) eyes shift to him for the fraction of second before sliding off in disinterest. Oh no.

He's hot.

Adam concentrates on trying to breath normally (which is pretty damn hard to do when there's a pack of freaking _raptors_ staring at him and oh, oh god, are _those_ the Indominus Rexes?). Lucy is starting to give him that _I-already-know-what-you're-think-and-it's-a-terrible-idea_ look and it's not helping.

Grady's talking to the guide and he's making some weird, frustrated little chuffing noises that Adam can't quite place until one of the raptors, the one with the blue stripe, also starts making them. Grady calms himself, if only slightly, and sends the raptor some sort of hand signal that quiets her down. He's talking to the guide again, but Adam can't really make out the words over the curious clamor of the other interns. Lucy's trying her best to grab his attention by jabbing her bony elbow in his ribs (repeatedly), but Adam has two younger sisters, three older brothers, and a gaggle of terrifying cousins. Lucy's elbow jabbing is inconsequential.

Grady's on his phone now, and Adam can vaguely hear a mish-mash of English and French spurting from his mouth like fire. When he finishes his call and slips the phone into his pocket, he takes a deep breath and the tension in his shoulders smooths itself out. His eyes sweep over the interns once more and then he's strolling away, his steps quiet and graceful.

Adam is once again reminded of the raptors milling around the bungalow.

...

Barry arrives at the bungalow exactly twenty minutes after his quiet altercation with Owen on the phone.

There's a line drawn right smack in between the bus and the students huddling desperately in it's shade, and Owen's porch where Owen and the pack stand practically statue still. Owen has that look on his face, the one where his lips are pressed together and the lines around his eyes are pinched. It's the one that means he's surrounded by idiots and Barry suspects this is more about Owen Wrangling than Raptor Wrangling.

Great.

Talking to the inters is actually supposed to be Owen's job but Barry can deal. Besides, as much as he loves the girls, and knows they've got some semblance of respect for him (according to Owen), if something goes wrong, he doesn't have the power to keep the girls in line. So. He talks to the interns while Owen hovers in the background, keeping his girls from causing trouble. For some reason, this entails cooing at them and Barry is quite certain that anyone else would have lost at least a hand by now.

One of the students, some kid named Lucy, asks if they can get a closer look at the pack (and Barry pretends not to notice the exaggerated punch the dark-haired boy to her left lands on her shoulder, nor the tongue she sticks at him). Barry feels a lot more tired.

He shoots a look at Owen in question and he in turn eyes his girls. He nods, but gestures for the students to stay back.

They approach slowly and for one weird moment, Barry is reminded that Owen walking in the middle of a formation of potentially deadly predators looking like a goddamn warrior prince despite his simple jeans and t-shirt can actually be intimidating to those who have not been exposed to his terrible puns and that habit of cuddling his pillow. The one dark-haired kid next to Lucy looks like he might start drooling.

Barry kind of feels bad for him because besides that one terrible, terrible date with Claire Dearing (which, admittedly was half his fault, the rest goes to Zara Young for having the idea of setting them up in the first place and not mention that she _knew_ they both danced to the tune of _ace ace baby)_ Owen doesn't date. Especially not now that he's mother of six and Barry should start policing his thoughts because otherwise they go to strange places.

Owen signals for the interns to approach (slowly) and nobody dares to cross the line. He starts talking, words falling from his mouth in silky rivers that captures the attention of his audience.

"Respect, energy, the knowledge that they are wild." _A deep bond that comes from having Disney princess animal communicating powers._ "That's what it takes to train and care for an animal." Barry successfully stifles a snort.

By the time the interns leave, Owen's been hit on a grand total of six times, and has had three students try to get his number. Only one of interns had tried to reenact How to Train Your Dragon and Owen had been fast enough to save the poor kid's fingers (though sadly not his purple scarf). Though, why anyone would wear a scarf on a tropical island is beyond Barry.

"That wasn't too bad," Barry says as the bus disappears into the trees. Owen sags heavily on his hammock.

"I need a beer." Venizia makes an offended little sound, gesturing to the bags still saddled on her body.

"And a really long trip in the restricted zone." Barry hums in agreement.

* * *

She's standing face to face with a raptor.

Like. An actual velociraptor, the thing everyone who's ever worked in Jurassic World has nightmares about, the thing that makes blood turn to ice at a mere mention. They'd told her about Owen Grady the raptor handler (whisperer/mother/whatever) and his pack of _actual fucking raptors_. She didn't believe most of what they said, no way someone could handle predators the way they said he did. As a herbivore handler, she doesn't have much reason to talk the predator handlers, much less seek out Owen goddamn Grady, the Raptor Whisper in the restricted zone.

Unfortunately, there's a trike in distress and the best at handling dinos in distress are Barry and Owen and Barry isn't on the island at the moment. They (meaning the senior handlers) had sent her, Alice, a newbie, to retrieve Owen to calm the poor thing down. Something about the guy's way with animals.

"Watch out for the raptors!" Lorie had said.

No one mentioned they would be running around outside their paddock. Who leaves a carnivore (a freaking _velociraptor_ ) outside its paddock?

It (she?) stares her in the eye, but there is no hunger its gaze. Alice's breath freezes in her throat as it shuffles closer, examining her with bored, amber eyes. It's not full size, but it's still prettty big and Alice feels the pinpricks of cold sweat forming on her forehead. The muffled _tip-tap_ of it's large sickle claw on the hard-packed dirt almost mirrors the _thump-thump_ of her heart and its lips peel apart to reveal deadly teeth.

Maybe it's that it hasn't attacked her yet. Maybe it's because despite the terror coursing through her veins and fogging her thoughts, she still thinks it's beautiful.

She puts her hand up and reaches for the raptor's snout.

It's close, so close, and it isn't lunging yet so maybe...

"Unless you're not particularly attached to that hand, put it down."

Alice startles, badly, and barely manages to move her hand away before the raptor's lunging and pinning her down, a low, furious growl emanating from deep in its throat. She's breathing hard, there's no blood but its claw are digging warningly into her arm.

"Echo, back off! Now, get off her now!"

The raptor snarls, blows hot breath into her face, but it gets off, snapping at her when she attempts to get up. Alice stays down. She tilts her head, and there he is, Owen Grady in all his Alpha glory. He's staring the raptor down, low scolding noises scraping from his throat, brows bunched together, eyes ablaze and teeth bared.

"Eyes on me," he hisses at the raptor and Alice wonders if he's mad at it.

He signals at it to- do something. When it melts into the shadows of the trees, Alice sighs in relief and picks herself up. She's finds herself the subject of Owen Grady's furious glare. He's tapping a blunt fingernail on the knife at his hip, his eyes are like chips of ice. He reminds her of the raptor that had just left.

"What are on earth were you doing?" he asks, voice soft and calm and edged with steel (a blade shielded in velvet). Alice nearly chokes on the lump in her throat.

"I w-was looking for you 'cause one of th-the trikes is, um, is going kinda crazy and we couldn't get B-barry 'cause he's, you know, off island. So. Yeah. I got kinda lost..." Alice hates the uncharacteristic stutter and the way she sounds so uncertain. It doesn't really soften the look on Owen Grady's face.

"Were you not told about the raptors?"

"They were mentioned."

Owen inhales a very long breath and lets it stream slowly from his nose. His fingers pinch at the bridge and his eyes squeeze shut. When he meets her eyes again, he looks more resigned than angry and Alice supposes it's an improvement. He tells he has to take his girls home and then he'll head out to deal with the trike.

...

"You tried to touch one of the raptors?"

Alice cringes at the disbelief in Lucy's voice.

"How are you even still alive?" questions one of the senior handlers, a flame-haired man with a sunburned face.

Alice admits that Owen had been there to keep the raptor from tearing her to shreds.

"He's dangerous."

"He's wild."

"He gets more like his raptors the more they grow."

"Don't even mention the Indominuses (Indomini?)."

Mummers go throughout the break-room, the way the animals (not just the pack) react to him, the way he walks like he's stalking prey when he's frustrated and Alice is beginning to think she should have taken her chances with the raptor.

Barry walks into the brake-room (back from whatever he was doing off island) and the conversation hushes. Alice wonders if Barry knows all the dos and don'ts of Owen Grady, wonders how he manages to navigate them.

...

Owen is really, really done with people thinking it's okay to wander into the restricted zone ( _pack territory_ , Blue whispers in his head) without authorization just because they're looking for him. He needs to talk to Masrani and Claire about an approved visitor's list.

At the very top: Barry Provaire. Not on the list: interns, most of the handlers, and unapproved Ingen security guards. And if not that, he'll accept people calling in before they decide to invade his _(the pack's_ ) territory. He also needs everyone to know it's not okay to try and pet the raptors. _Ever_.

Only Barry's allowed to touch them and _only_ when they approach him first (which they often do) and Owen is the _Alpha_. His contact is very much encouraged. The strange touch of those who are not _pack_ (family, Ohana, what may have you) is uncomfortable. Especially for Roma and Venizia. The adore being looked and admired, yes, but never touched. He can still feel Echo's displeasure at the near contact with the intruder, can almost taste it as something bitter.

The girl was lucky it was Echo and not Charlie or Delta or especially Roma.

For all that Owen is able to do with them, they are still wild and deadly. Tame is a term Owen would never dare to associate with his girls (and Blue snorts at anyone who does so).

He's in the temporary paddock with them (and though it's not much, easily escapable, they stay because their Alpha wants them to and they know it's for the best). They've curled around him, Blue's head in his lap, Venizia at his back while Roma takes up all the space to his left. Charlie and Delta splay themselves over his legs, effectively trapping him on the ground. Echo is trying to squeeze beside Blue to tap her nose to his hip and Owen can move just enough (much to Charlie and Delta's annoyance) to allow her to do so.

They're taking a quick breather before they head off into the trees again. Owen hopes Barry'll be able to deal with the other park matters while he's away.

* * *

Owen really shouldn't enjoy patrolling the restricted zone as much as he does.

He thinks it has something to do with the fact that it's just him and his girls and nothing else but trees and a few indigenous animals that are nothing but whispers in the back of his mind. His girls are getting better at developing shields and where the park had once been a loud, energetic hum that stole his sleep, it now lurks in corners, barely a spark. The pack are suns, bright and beautiful. Headaches come less often.

Owen's checking the cameras, the ones put there to make sure some idiot tourist wouldn't come in looking for a little more than what the park offers. There's only a few compie packs here and there, still running free, but they're not much of a nuisance. Mostly, they make for a clever snack for the girls.

The pack is milling around and Owen gives them the signal to go about as they please. He has to replace one of the cameras and it could take a while. Blue bumps into his hand before she runs off and the rest follow her example. Their emotions filter in as he works the screws (old and kind of rusty) and it distracts him, just a little bit.

He lets himself slip, sliding into blond with ease and _sees_. Blue's running, mostly just to shave off excess energy and to feel the brisk breeze against her marbled skin. Echo's dozing in a patch of sunlight, snapping lightly at the lizards that approach. Roma and Venizia and Delta and Charlie have teamed up against each other in a competition to see who can catch the most prey. Delta's managed to catch a rabbit and Venizia's racing Charlie for a wild chicken. There is no danger, no threats, and Owen feels entirely balanced. There's warmth seeping into the bond, everything's slow and hazy and it takes Owen a moment to realize he's humming softly in content. He doesn't mind, rather enjoys the pleasant buzz in his veins. He takes another moment to enjoy it, the feeling of being connected, of not being alone ( _never_ ) before going back to the camera.

It takes a good few minutes to replace it, but the pack doesn't mind. He carefully slides his way down the steep hill the cameras are placed and doesn't notice the loose rocks until he's tripping over them and tumbling down in a graceless heap. He lands, _hard_ , and something shifts painfully in his wrist and ankle. He groans, and winces at the pain of having tiny, pointed rocks digging into his back.

Oh.

He doubts Barry's going to be pleased.

It doesn't take for the girls to race to his side, having felt his five-second terror at the shifting ground beneath his feet and the sharp twinge of his painful landing. Blue's there immediately, pressing herself comfortingly to his side and trying to alleviate his pain (trying to leach it away through the bond and he startles when it begins to work and that the other girls are doing it too). Roma and Venizia are pushing him to sit up (oh, when did they get so big) and he thinks he may be a tad more injured than his wrist and ankle. Did he hit his head on the way down? Does he have a concussion? He can't be sure. Echo's trying to send reassurance through the bond, the way he does when they're nervous, or agitated, or getting prepared for a medical exam. She's doing a pretty good job of it, his heart's no longer trying to burst through his chest.

Delta's got a forelimb on his arm, it's her attempt to comfort him and he thinks it's also working. His breathing's not so bad and Charlie's loud, staccato barks ( _up-up-up_ ) keep him from straying into sleep. Owen reaches his good hand to his head and winces when he finds his head matted with thick, sticky fluid. He doesn't have to look at it to know that it's blood.

Scratch that, Barry's going to be _pissed._ He grimaces when he catches sight of his radio. It broken, cracked to hell and he doesn't have his phone on him. He doesn't want to imagine what Claire will say or what Hoskins will do when he finds out that when Owen was injured, instead of mauling him to death the pack actively helped him. Owen squashes that to the back of his mind to _not_ think about later.

Roma and Venizia finally get him up and slip under his arms, acting as crutches. They're three months old, but already they reach his waist and he has no doubts that they'll reach Rexy's height within the year. The rest of his girls are six months and he knows they'll reach head-height by eight months. Roma and Venizia have always been the most protective of him (right behind Blue) and Owen's sure that's saying something because Delta has a habit of sniffing at his food to make sure it isn't something deadly before letting him eat it. She's told him several times that there's no way salads are good for him.

Echo leaves his side momentarily to fetch his bag of equipment (all probably broken now, dammit) and returns with it slung over her neck.

They're leading him away now, seeking out the quickest way to get him back to the bungalow. Owen whines and makes vague motion to his bike, still parked next to an old stump with the rest of his equipment hung on it. Blue whuffles at him, exasperation in her eyes.

 _Leave it_ , she says, _Barry can come back for it later._

Owen doubts he has much choice in the matter (Roma and Venizia are the only things keeping him up after all) so he acquiesces. The pack moves into formation around him, Echo at his back, Charlie and Delta to his left and right, keeping just slightly behind his crutches. Blue takes to the front, keeping him mostly shielded from potential danger.

He feels like he's floating, in and out, up and down, little black and white dots dancing in his vision. Roma and Venizia make sure he doesn't fall unconscious, though he wonders if his head wound is even _that bad._ Venizia's make those little crooning sounds, the ones that he knows are the Indominus equivalent to sweet nothings.

Then the pack stops, abruptly, and it's only Venizia's claws on his shirt that keep him from stumbling to the ground. For a very brief moment, the pack stops leaching at his pain and he gasps in absolute misery until they're back at, giving him soft trills in apology. They're still paused and it doesn't take Owen long to figure out why. There's footsteps nearby (human) and it sounds to Owen like however's out there is trying to be quiet but failing horribly.

"Hey!" Owen calls, voice miraculously _not_ hoarse, and the crunching steps stop. Then they start again, speeding up and fading. Owen signals at Charlie and Delta.

 _Catch. Herd to the Alpha. Do not attack!_

They bob their heads in understanding and rush into the foliage. Not long after, there's a loud, terrified squeal that reminds Owen of the pigs in the training runs. His girls don't take long to return, two teenage boys huddled together between them. Blue doesn't look the slightest bit impressed and through her, through the pack, he can smell their fear, sour and pungent. He groans.

"Whoa, man, did they take you hostage? Did they take _us_ hostage? Are they gonna, like, eat us!?" rambles one of the boys with increasing hysteria. He's blond, Owen notes, and his companion is a sandy brunet.

"Do either of you have a phone?" Owen asks, tiredly. The brunet nods and Owen holds out his good hand. The boy approaches very slowly, which is a pretty smart move. He slides his phone onto Owen's hand, every moment monitored by Blue, Delta tensed and ready to strike at the slightest twitch.

Owen barely has the situation under control, knows he needs backup before the boys do something stupid. Though he figures trespassing on the restricted zone is almost stupid enough. The only reason his girls haven't attacked yet is because Owen's convinced them the boys could be useful. They were stupid to come into the restricted zone in the first place and now they're facing down a pack of protective prehistoric predators prepared to do whatever to protect their _injured_ Alpha. Honestly those boys are lucky to be alive.

Owen taps in Barry's number, glad to have memorized it, and even happier when his partner in crime picks up at the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Barry, we have a situation."

"Owen? Whose phone are you using?"

"Yeah, um, I'll explain later. Right now I'm in the restricted zone, near the original ruins, I can see the old visitor's center and. Well, I kind of fell when I was rigging up the new cameras and while the girls were taking me home, we kind of ran into some kids and the girls are like, one twitch away from tearing them apart."

There's a moment of silence from the other line. Owen thinks Barry might counting to ten.

"I'l be there in moment." His voice isn't nearly as strangled as Owen thought it would be.

...

It turns out, Owen did have a concussion.

* * *

 **And, that's it till Monday. Remember, reviews, much like coffee, keeps me going!**

 **And here's some fun facts about this story and myself you may (but probably don't) want to know**

 **-English is not my first language**

 **-All the chapter titles (and the actual story title) are song lyrics**

 **-I play the trumpet**


	5. You're Guaranteed to Run This Town

**I AM SO SORRY I MEANT TO HAVE THIS UP LIKE THREE WEEKS AGO. I was kinda hoping that I'd have a somewhat regular update schedule with this fic, but then I had to go to Mexico and then we got new band directors, the summer band schedule changed (and we're playing Star Trek: Into Darkness this year, I'm so excited! I've already got 3/4 movements memorized hell yeah!) But yeah, summer band camp tends to take longer than an average class day so, not to mention it's exhausting and with actual school coming up this month (along with a possible part time job), updates are gonna get hectic, so please be patient with me. There's only so much a sad lil teenage girl like me can through at once.**

 **Now without further ado, chapter five.**

* * *

"Barry, relax, it's not that bad."

"Owen, this is the second time you've ended up in the medical wing this month."

"It's just a little cold, everyone's overreacting. And anyways, that other time it was just a sprained ankle and wrist."

"And a concussion."

"I'm pretty sure those two boys, Tony and Steve (?), were left with far more trauma than I."

"Owen."

Owen sighs. He knows that tone, has heard it various times and not always from human mouths. It's particularly familiar coming from Barry, concern, sternness, and bemusement rolled into one. He' got a brow raised high on his forehead and his hands on his hips and Owen has to choke back a laugh at how much Barry reminds him of his grandmother. He's thwarted by the fierce coughing fit that rattles his frame and has him breathing in sharp gasps. When it recedes, it leaves the feeling of sandpaper in his throat and a thick ache in his head.

His girls call out in worry through the bond, pulling sharply at the strings that hold them together.

 _I'm fine_ , he projects through the link. It does little to abate the cloying _thickness_ on the other end of the bond, a plethora of negative emotions that drives him just a little breathless. Though he's loath to admit it, Owen knows he doesn't have the strength to project confidence into the link with the distance between him and his girls (he barely has the strength to keep himself sitting up).

The pack wants him with them, within their ranks to keep him safe. It's part instinct ( _protect the Alpha_ ) and part the bond ( _keep Owen safe and happy_ ). They're convinced he'll heal faster if he's with them.

Further thoughts are halted by the glass of water Barry offers him. He accepts it with a grateful grunt, eyes slipping close as cool liquid soothes the fire in his throat.

The bond feels so strange, weak and distant. Owen chalks it up to his illness, distance has never been a factor in the strength of the bond. Though it's a rarity, Owen's gone as far as the mainland and even then he felt as if his girls were right there with him. At the moment they feel so very far, and they don't seem like individuals, more like a blob of light with a spark of something slightly brighter (Blue, probably). The rest of the park animals that usually linger in the back of his head, a low monotonous hum behind the beacons that are his pack, become a solid throb that echos throughout his skull and leaves a relentless ache in its wake.

"Go to sleep, Owen," says Barry, voice soft and sympathetic.

Owen decides that just this once, he'll listen. He relaxes into the bed, his strength leaking away and unconsciousness dragging him into a deep embrace.

...

Owen isn't sure if he's awake or if he's dreaming.

There's people around him, white shapes that blend with the walls, blurring into each other until nothing is defined. Everything moves as if through grainy film. Even with the low murmur of voices around him, the world seems strangely quiet and he feels like something's missing. There's no familiar buzz in the back of his mind and he feels as if he might be missing a limb.

But no, there's all ten fingers, two hands, two arms. Ten toes, two feet, two legs. Why is it so quiet? What is he missing? There's a sound struggling to hiss past his lips, but he's not sure what it could be.

A name?

A color?

A name that is a color?

There's pain being inflected on his arm, distracting him from his questions. Owen wants to scramble away, to curl up and figure out what's wrong on his own, to figure why he feels as if he's lost. It's like he's trapped in a swirling sea of nothing, even as he curls on himself to escape the pricking of what could be needles. The tide of voices in his head is nowhere to be found and he feels so inexplicably alone despite the blurs of people in his room.

They're talking, _hold him down, we need those blood samples, give him some more sedatives_ , tones in shades of cold, impatient, and indifferent. They ring in his ears, nearly indecipherable.

They're not pack.

A low keen rumbles in his throat, followed by a series of aggravated clicks and barks. He almost doesn't register the sudden hush in the room, the shock and slight fear that coats the air. Owen doesn't care, he's too preoccupied with finding his pack. His anxiety skyrockets because the link is just not there, there's a barricade in his mind that seems impossible to break through. There seems to be little he can do against the pit of smoke and void that blocks him from his girls.

The best he can do is rumble in distress.

...

Dr. Henry Wu watches in disconnected fascination as the man in the bed goes from having a slight fever and rough cough to a feverish, pitiful mess. Within the minute of being moved to the Disconnection Room the patient's condition had deteriorated and his fever had spiked.

All connections had been (temporarily) severed and Grady had a strong reaction to it. How does Masrani put it? Ah, the stronger the ability, the stronger the reaction, he had said while standing impassively in the room, more than grateful for the peace.

He never had that strong a gift after all, never had formed a bond. For Masrani, this room is peace. For anyone with stronger abilities, this room is hell.

"Owen Grady is for the good of the park," Masrani had said.

Grady isn't supposed to be an experiment. Masrani is adamant on that. There's also Hoskins, who wants the dinosaurs to be militarized, which is frankly ridiculous. Even _Henry_ with his own grandiose ideas knows that the dinosaurs are still _animals_ no matter how intelligent and would have no interest in fighting a war, a _human_ war at that. While Grady's raptors ( and the Indomini) are _special_ , they're loyal only to their Alpha. The best option would be to convince Grady to convince his pack to battle. Henry knows that would be impossible.

There is a word for the type of person Hoskins is.

Fool.

Even if they _could_ convince someone else like Grady to fight, it'd be a nightmare to actually find someone strong enough to bond with an animal intelligent enough for war, as anyone with any abilities at all are notoriously rare. Masrani has assured him that someone with Grady's level of skill is practically non-existent.

Henry is sure that Grady and his abilities could contribute _so much_ to science. The raptors are _protective_ of him. The Indomini had deferred to him immediately and treat him with the utmost respect (and even if he had been counting on that, watching them zero in on Grady had been astonishing). The reactions he garners from the other animals is simply extraordinary. If only Masrani would hand over the reins to the raptor project...

But no, Grady's presence is for the sake of the animals and not to further the understanding of the human mind. Oh what Henry would do for a brain scan. Ah, well. There's not much Henry can do about it, the project only goes to him if something happens to Masrani.

Well. There's not much _Henry_ can do about that.

But Hoskins has friends in unholy spaces.

...

Owen wakes to the feeling of being tightly packed in the middle of six possessive minds. Blue's there, the most solid of them all, and all of her emotions (along with the rest of his girls') slam into him like a sack of bricks. There's _worry, anger, sadness, pain, fear_ and a swarm of other emotions Owen requires actual energy to pick apart. Owen projects to them, relieved that the bond feels much stronger than before, and tries to assure them he's fine. They don't relent, but rather curl around him tighter, beg him to come home. Owen let's them, tells them that he'll be home soon. To be honest, he really just wants to curl up with his girls in the temporary paddock to forget about the slight pain in his head.

He lets his eyes wander around his new room and is surprised to see Barry along with Zara and Claire. When the surprise wears out, he smiles. Sure, that one date was absolutely dreadful (the incident with the Mosasaurus wasn't even the worst thing), but he and Claire had come out of it friends with a better understanding of each others methods. Owen knows Barry's friends with Zara and while she and Owen don't hang around each other often, he likes her well enough. She shares Barry's sense of humor (though she has a greater appreciation for his puns).

"Hey guys," he says, voice rough from disuse.

"You gave a scare there Owen "just a cold" Grady. They had to take you to a different room and your fever spiked. The girls were freaking out." Barry doesn't look amused. Neither do Zara or Claire. Owen winces.

"I honestly feel fine now, seriously." Barry looks doubtful.

"Please just get me to my girls?"

The three share a look. To Owen's relief, they agree.

...

Blue is the first to greet him when he gets home.

The rest of the pack is mingling around the Bungalow and Owen is slightly perturbed (but unsurprised) to find the temp paddock in shambles.

"They wanted to look for you. It was all I could do to explain you were safe without losing a body part or having one of them escape into the main park," Barry explains.

Owen nods absentmindedly, too lost in the wash of _pack_ that tides over him. His other girls creep up on him, sniffling at his clothes and blowing air on his hair, easy to reach since he's kneeling. Then they curl around him, rubbing their scent on him, burying the scent of hospital and lingering sickness beneath the welcoming and familiar scent of pack ( _family_ ).

They had not done well without each other. The girls had been snappish and aggressive and Owen's condition had not fared well.

But they're together now, and with the bond thick between them, the separation is quickly put behind them.

* * *

The moment Owen has always dreaded has finally come.

At shoulder-height, the girls are too big to keep at the bungalow and the raptor paddock is complete. While the Indominus paddock is yet to be finished, Roma and Venezia are still the same size as the rest of the pack so there's plenty of time yet for it to be ready.

Still.

He has to move the girls to the official raptor paddock.

Owen tries to bury the apprehension the chews at him, but the girls can sense it anyways. Blue's giving him the raptor approximation of a concerned look while the rest of the pack mills nervously within the confines of the temporary paddock. They're taller than the wire mesh fence around them and could easily jump over it and while Owen knows it's not much of a concern, Claire's urging for the sake of the sanity of the other island employees. Though they've gotten over their first date and learned things about each other, there's still only one person on the island that Owen's told about his abilities.

But then, Owen's sure that even if he did tell her, she'd still make him move them. For the sake of the other employees.

...

Owen can't believe he managed to move the girls without anyone dying.

The ride over is atrocious, the road cobbled together with stone and concrete. The girls are sedated, at the request of the team assisting with the move (and much to Owen's consternation). Owen stays in the transport truck with his pack, grounding them through fuzz in their minds and keeping them calm. He knows the transport team probably thinks he's insane, but that's pretty much his reputation on the island and he's fine with it.

 _That crazy sonovabitch Grady_ was pretty much his nickname throughout his service years.

Getting his girls into the paddock is an exercise in patience and control. Patience with the transport team and control to himself from snapping at the ACU volunteer holding onto Delta's tail. They're only trying to help after all (even if they touch his girls like they'll lash out and bite them). Owen knows they won't, he can feel their minds still deep in fuzzy-sedative-land, and even if they weren't, they know better than to attack humans. They understand the consequences better now than when they were younger. However, he understands that Delta, Roma, and Venezia draw the line at being touched by strangers and the rest will only tolerate it if he shows trust in the person.

Once his girls are settled in a shady region of the paddock, the transport team makes themselves scarce and Owen settles himself a little further from the pack, knowing that they'll need space to orient themselves before settling back into the bond.

Owen's rather impressed with the official raptor paddock. They'd taken his considerations into account (likely due to dual orders from Claire and Masrani, god bless them). It's spacious, plenty of room for six full grown raptors to run around (and he once again praises Claire and Masrani, this time for remembering his comments on Roma and Venizia about how they still had a while before they would grow into their own paddock).

He'd caught a glimpse of the Indominus paddock when he was moving his girls in. The wall closest to the raptor paddock is complete and Owen was relieved to see tunnels already built to connect both paddocks. His girls could still be pack, even with Roma and Venizia's show and Blue, Charlie, Delta, and Echo's private training. Owen's sure the pack will still try to escape out of sheer boredom in the time it takes him to get from the bungalow to their new location. Owen is _very sure_ they will protest when he has to leave.

By the time his girls start coming to, Owen's fallen into light doze and the sun's fading light casts a sheen of red-gold onto the earth. Their tumultuous and confused thoughts filter into his head, overshadowing the distant hum of the other park animals and startle him into awareness.

 _New smells, new land, new place- is Alpha safe!?_ rings in Owen's mind, like words said too loud in an echo-y hallway.

Owen gives his girls a moment longer to orient themselves before he's reaching and brushing against them, grounding them, allowing them to use his mind as an anchor through the haze of the sedatives. He whistles lowly, softly, letting them know he's physically there. Blue whistles back, appreciating his presence. One by one, his girls stumble to him, Blue first (Blue's _always_ first), and curl around him.

Physically and mentally, as is their wont.

Owen doesn't have the heart to push them away to make his way home (there's a little voice in his head that's saying that here, in the center of his pack, is home). Venizia is warm and solid at his back, Blue's head is a heavy, but welcome, weight on his lap. Charlie and Delta pin his legs to the sandy ground and Echo and Roma pin his arms to his sides. Even in their groggy states, they're careful with him, well aware of fragile human skin and razor sharp claws.

They crowd him, taking in his scent and rubbing their own onto him.

The sun is naught but a faint sliver of gold-white in the horizon, only vaguely visible through the thick groves of trees and the bars of the paddock. The ground is swathed in a thick blanket of shadows and Owen feels that maybe he should make his way back to the bungalow.

Maybe he should, but his eyes tingle pleasantly with the weight of sleep and he's terribly comfortable, even if he's on the ground. Blue catches wind of his thoughts and growls, Roma pulls out a large forelimb and closes it lightly around his wrist, careful with the delicate skin of his inner wrist and the veins within.

They won't actually stop him if he really wants leave, but they won't be happy about it and they'll probably be tetchy in the morning.

The thing is, Owen doesn't want to leave. He's warm and comfortable and he feel safe ( _so so safe_ ). The bond vibrates with content like a physical, living thing, brushes against all of them, a bubble of trust and acceptance.

Owen doubts anyone (even Barry) would be able to understand it. He barely understands it himself.

It makes him both sad and relieved; sad that no one else has felt what he's felt with these amazing animals (that feel more like family), and relieved because it's not something he has to share. It's something neither his childhood bullies, or his absentee father, or his drunk mother can take away from him.

It's something his grandmother could be proud of.

It's something _he_ can be proud of.

Owen stays where he is, Roma's forelimb stays circled around his wrist, an anchor for the both of them. Blue's lips quirk up to reveal her blade-sharp teeth, her own version of a fond smile. Owen gets the feeling he won't be sleeping in his own bed for a while. He's oddly okay with that.

He doesn't even think about the minor heart attacks he's going to give the Ingen security guards that'll arrive for the first shift the next morning.

There's a familiar tune buzzing in his throat and Owen's sure the girls won't mind him singing them to sleep. They miss his lullabies, which aren't actually lullabies, but tunes he remembers singing with his grandmother on lazy summer days, the old, banged up radio blaring 70's not-quite-old-enough-to-be classics.

 _Oooh child_ , he breathes, _things are gonna get easier._ _Oooh child, things'll get brighter_!

His girls whuffle lightly, recognizing the song immediately from stormy nights spent in Owen's bed, hiding under the covers at the thunder claps and taking comfort in Owen's strong presence. Owen smiles.

As the night drags on, the stars flutter on their black canvas and the casts a sheen of pale silver light. A stiff breeze cuts through the trees, but Owen doesn't feel it. He's asleep, a smile pulling at his lips, warm within his protective circle of prehistoric predators (and two unique hybrids).

This is home.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **And in case any of you are interested, here's of list of the songs I get my titles from (and maybe some of my plot goes in the direction that these songs affect me)**

 **Story Title-I Gave You All by Mumford and Sons**

 **Chapter One- Alone Together by Fallout Boy**

 **Chapter Two-Loveliest Lies of All from Over the Garden Wall**

 **Chapter Three-Save Rock and Roll by Fallout Boy**

 **Chapter Four-Death Valley by Fallout Boy**

 **Chapter Five-The Ballad of Mona Lisa by Panic! at the Disco**

 **If you're familiar with any of these bands, then you should know that this story isn't gonna stay happy for long. Good day!**


	6. Nine: Look 'em In the Eye, Aim No Higher

**Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated in a while, school (ap biology) has been kicking my ass. I've been reminded of the fact that I'm musical theatre trash and I've been crying over Star Wars, but then I rewatched Jurassic Park (all of them) and I got my inspiration back. Thanks for sticking with and I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

One of the things Blue loves about the pig-chasing exercise is the rush of running through the jungle, wind and foliage and small branches brushing against her, the scent of the underbrush and the soft earth easily giving way to her mighty talons. Her pack is behind her and the bond surrounds them, their communication impeccable and their tactics advanced for their age. The only thing that could make the chase better would be Owen riding along with them, his mind a steady anchor for the pack bond. She's long since made herself content with the knowledge that he'll be at the end of the chase, when the pig disappears into its hidey hope, and they'll have his full attention.

They know better than to actually attack the pig, now, though there were several incidents in the past where they had not understood the purpose of the pig-chase and made a quick meal of the small animal. Blue had thought Owen would be _proud_ of them and replace the pig with a more challenging target. He _was_ proud, but he had to explain that the purpose of the pig-chase wasn't to _catch_ the pig, but to follow it to the open area under the catwalk and follow some simple commands.

 _Simple commands_ , he had snorted, _for simple-minded humans._

Sometimes, to make the chase a little more entertaining (and to drag it on a little longer), they'll play tricks on the pig, and Owen, immediately knowing what they're doing, showers the bond with amused warmth.

This time, the chase goes quickly. It's been awhile since Owen had slept in the paddock with them, and he'd promised that if they managed to get through this exercise without a hitch, he'd stay with them that night. Suffice to say, they were eager for a night of cuddles with their Alpha, to rub the scent of the pack on him and to hear the rumble of of his laugh up close. To once again surround him in their ranks.

It's not long before they slip into the bright, sun-lit area under the catwalk. Owen's voice calls them to a halt, and he gently reinforces the order through bond. The pig pelts into its little safety hole and Owen whistles, the one that clearly means _eyes on me_ and six pairs of eyes snap up to meet Owen's sharp, blue-green eyes. The sun shines brightly behind him, haloing his hair and making it shine a burning red. He's wearing his serious expression, but they can feel his joy and his pride and it has them chittering in excitement. He's rapidly clicking his clicker at them (but that's mostly just for show). They swiftly follow him at his command, keeping eye contact and following his every move.

To the outside observer it might seem that they're scrutinizing him, when actually, they're just happy to see their Alpha again.

Blue has to snap and snarl at her sisters to get them to tone their excitement down, and it takes Owen scolding her for Delta to calm down. He gives them some easy commands ( _stay, eyes on me, bark_ ), simple things that any trained creature could do and Blue almost feels insulted. However, she knows Owen doesn't doubt her or sister's intelligence and that the harder puzzles are for later, outside the itinerary and away from prying eyes.

"Good girls", he says, pride in his tone when they finish the exercise.

He grabs a bucket hanging from the railing on the catwalk and the pack waves their tales in unison. That's the rat bucket. The first rat goes to Echo, in the back, who catches it quickly. She chirps, pleased with herself and relieved that she hadn't once again fallen on her face. The next two go to Roma and Venizia, who catch their snack with ease. Delta snatches her's from the air while Charlie plucks it delicately as it sales above her head.

Blue waits patiently for her share, golden eyes locked on Owen the entire time. When he finally face her, there's a fond smile waiting at the edges of his lips. She can feel it through their bond and she shoots him the raptor equivalent of a grin. Mostly, it looks like she's baring her teeth at him, but he understands (and appreciates) the sentiment.

" _This_ ", he lightly shakes the rat corpse in his hand, "this is for you, Blue".

She catches it with ease and the full warmth of Owen's genuine smile slips into the bond. When he whistles and signals them to go, they scatter, knowing that the training exercise is over and that they are free for the day. Blue stays in the area beneath the catwalk, settling herself on the hard-packed dirt to bask in the sun.

A disturbance in the bond has her sitting before she even has a chance to relax and to her great annoyance, finds Vic Hoskins (pig-eyes, as she refers to him) cornering her Alpha.

...

Ever since Henry Wu had informed him of Grady's "talents" Hoskins had kept a sharp eye around him.

Hoskins thinks himself rather gifted. There was that wolf he'd managed to befriend, guiding it with whatever faint nudges he could give its bald-sharp mind, earning it's loyalty in the end. He's hard-pressed to admit that Masrani is a little stronger than him, but he'll give that the man's sway over animals is impressive. Hoskins doesn't understand why he doesn't use his power more often.

Grady on the other hand, is on a completely different level than he would ever dare to be. Beyond anything he thought possible. Hoskins remembers attempting to nudge one of the raptors like he did the wolf. If the wolf's mind was like a razor sharp blade on bare skin, the raptor's mind was a live, burning wire through an open wound. Thinking about it still leaves him reeling, it had completely changed his definition of pain and power and it left him with a startling realization that he had less control than he anticipated.

Grady, though, seems to slide into their ranks with such a practiced ease, like he's been doing it his whole life and Hoskins gets the suspicion that he has. He knows Provaire doesn't have the gift because for all that he interacts with the raptors, he doesn't have the same effortless grace with them that Grady has, the assurance that they won't turn on him in an instance. Hoskins has kept a close eye on Grady and his interactions with the park animals and has seen the way they're drawn to him, the way they gravitate to him.

If they can weaponize a group of men like Grady and send them into a battlefield with their own pack of raptors, well, Hoskins thinks, they would be unstoppable. Wu's told him, with close to patronizing clarity, that Grady would never be interested in leading a group of animals to battle, that the animals would definitely be opposed to the idea, and that finding someone else anywhere near the level of power Grady's got is next to impossible. Hoskins begs to differ. He thinks ( _knows_ ) he can convince Grady (he's ex-navy after all, surely he'll be wanting to get back in action), and what do the animals know? He's convinced that if he gets Grady in on his plan, then his animals would have no other choice than to follow along. Hoskins is also sure that if he train himself enough, he'll eventually be able to slip into a raptor's head, and if he can do it, any old heathen with an inch of talent can do it.

The problem is that everytime he tries to even touch one of the raptors (and only the raptors, he doesn't feel ready for the Indominuses quite yet), he is swatted away like a pesky insect or it feels like he just set himself on fire and he has to pull away before he can really do anything. They follow Grady's orders almost eagerly, going about each command fluidly and efficiently.

As soon as the exercise ends, he swoops in, cornering Grady on the catwalk, interrupting his conversation with Provaire in rapid-fire French. He doesn't wait for them to wrap up the conversation, but barges in and plants himself between them.

"That was some great work out there, Grady", he complements, hoping to get on Grady's good side. Hoskins sets a hand on his shoulder and ignores how tense Grady suddenly seems.

"It's a good day", Grady retorts, tone polite but laced with steel. "We're not always so lucky." He doesn't _sound_ hostile, but he's not gentle when he shakes Hoskins's hand off his shoulder.

Grady stalks off to another section of the catwalk, Provaire at his heels and Hoskins rushes after him, determined to make his point.

"Think of their potential on the field", he says. "Hundreds of boots take off the field and replaced with a pack of these bad boys", he gesture in the direction of the bluish raptor sitting in the sun, "and we get twice as much done! People think robots are the future, but you can't get droids to go into caves or dig out bombs. You've proven that these animals can follow commands, they're loyal to you, they'd make excellent weapons!"

There's a moment of silence after his little speech and then Provaire bursts into laughter.

" _Est-il serieux? Dites-moi, il est pas grave_ ", Provaire chuckles, clapping Grady on the shoulder and walking off, shaking his head.

Grady snorts and responds with something Hoskins doesn't catch (though he doubts he'd understand it anyway). When he turns back to Hoskins, his face is serious again, a hint of ice in his blue-green eyes.

Look, Hoskins, these are animals, not machines. They have their own will and they're definitely not going to go storming off after someone just because I tell them to. They don't just blindly follow orders. They're wild and vicious and they'll just as soon bite off the arm of the one giving them commands. What I have with these raptors is a carefully sculpted relationship built on mutual respect." Grady's voice is calm and his eyes flicker to the raptor sitting in the sun.

Hoskins huffs, shaking his head.

"The future is with these animals, Grady", he insists, determined to make his point.

Grady doesn't speak, and a tense silence envelopes them. Grady doesn't look convinced at all, more like he'd rather be anywhere else. Hoskins is getting ready to push further when a shrill squeal splits through the air and security begins to panic because the training pig's escaped into the paddock. There's a small explosion of chaos and ACU is suddenly running around, hollering.

"Pig loose in the paddock", someone shouts distantly.

The raptors emerge from the jungle to check out the commotion and Hoskins is so sure the pig's screwed he's actually surprised they don't immediately go after it. They watch the squealing pink animal run around with seeming disinterest and Hoskins chances a glance at Grady to see him making eye contact with the bluish raptor often at the head of the group.

There's a shout in another section of the catwalk and all eyes turn just in time to see some kid fly off the railing, the pig snagging onto his pole with more force than expected. The pig is recaptured, but the kid (some newbie probably) is now sitting in the middle of the raptor paddock with six territorial and very dangerous predators who are suddenly very aggressive quickly surrounding him. Before Hoskins can so much as call out for the ACU to get their asses on the catwalk and knock out the damn raptors, Grady's flying off the catwalk, down the platform and into ;the ready cage, Provaire's shout of warning falling on deaf ears.

Grady's _inside_ the paddock, shouting at the ACU to _not shoot his pack_. Hoskins has his theories about just how strong Grady's sway over the raptors (and Indominuses) is and he's about to see just how many of them he can confirm.

Grady approaches the pack slowly, face neutral, eyes burning. When he speaks to the raptors, his voice is soft, but it's also firm and commanding. His arms are spread out, palms out and open, his posture is surprisingly calm, not at all stiff or betraying even a hint of fear. The kid who had fallen in quickly scrambles into the ready cage, limping slightly but not seeming to care. Provaire is there, waiting, open concern contorting his dark features into a frown.

One of the raptors barks, quizzically, and Grady whistles sharply at it. He's slowly making his way towards the paddock exit, the pack trailing him.

"Close the gate, Barry", Grady says without turning away from the pack. Provaire makes a very pointed noise of disagreement.

"Do it, Barry", Grady grunts, though he still doesn't seem outwardly affected by the proximity of the pack.

Provaire reluctantly complies and the paddock gate begins its slow ascent. There's a strange little moment between Grady and the raptors before he lunges under the closing gate. He almost doesn't catch it, but he's sharper than most people give him credit for (he was in the military after all, being dull in the military got you killed). There's a split second where he _knows_ he sees Grady nod, fractionally, at the bluish raptor and he thinks he sees the raptor nod back, just the tiniest bob of it's head.

Then Grady's ducking under the gate just as it slams close and three raptors are snapping at the place where he had previously been. Provaire snaps something in French and Grady laughs, patting him on the shoulder with a familiarity Hoskins failed to achieve earlier. Provaire gives him an incredulous scowl and stalks off. Grady turns to the newbie and quietly scolds him. Hoskins isn't paying attention to them though, he's watching as the raptors and Indominuses silently retreat into the shadows of the Paddock.

Hoskins doesn't dare try to enter into their minds, but he knows, _knows_ _ **,**_ that the three that had snapped after Grady didn't miss by accident.

* * *

It's a few weeks after the incident with the newie and Owen is relieved that there aren't any more afterwards. Owen hopes he won't have to deal with something like that ever again, but knowing not all of the ACU are as competent as Hamada, he's sure it won't' be long before something else happens. He'd also been terribly unnerved by the lingering look Hoskins had given him after he'd saved the newbie from his still fairly young and territorial raptors. He knows they wouldn't have _killed_ the kid, but he'd definitely be scarred for life, mentally and, if Owen hadn't interfered, physically.

Still, those thoughts don't darken his good mood. It's one of his solo training days with his girls in the Restricted Zone and while his girls weren't happy at having to be tranquilized, they forgave as soon as they woke surrounded by trees, soft undergrowth and no fences. They'd been loopy for a bit and Owen had been careful to say away from sharp, clumsy, drug-addled claws.

They're more awake now and Owen doesn't have to fear that they'll accidentally stab him. He lets his pack roam around to get the tranqs completely out of their systems and gets to work on the camera in this section of the Restricted Zone, as per Lowery's request.

He has his motorcycle resting against a tree, his equipment sitting at the side. He's got two radios on him now, one with his bag and one on his person and he's required to have his phone with him at all times. It was at Barry's insistence and Claire, remembering his accident some months earlier, had enforced it.

 _You break your radio, get a concussion and a few sprained limbs_ once _and you're labeled for life,_ he thinks, rolling his eyes.

 _Good_ , rumbles BLue in his head, clearly thinking about how she and the rest of the pack had to drag his useless ass through the Restricted Zone (along with some boys who had thought it would be cool to try and get a peek at the original park's ruins).

Owen rolls his eyes harder (nearly gives himself a headache for his trouble) and huffs. Honestly. Even his own raptors are against him. Blue snorts, amused, and taps his hand with her nose before dashing deeper into the jungle. The Rest of the pack follow her lead and Owen is left to take care of Lowrey's security cameras. It's quiet and oddly calming work, and though it has nothing on working with his raptor, it's satisfying.

Twenty minutes into cleaning and rewiring the cameras to Lowrey's specific instructions, Owen realizes he isn't alone, physically. (Mentally he is never alone).

He casts out his mind, but he needn't have to as he immediately feels Venizia watching him closely through the trees. She's trying to make sure he doesn't see her, and normally that wouldn't be a problem, but a) Owen Grady is not even remotely close to normal and b) he's entirely too used to their antics to be surprised by them. Usually.

Owen figures Blue sent out her to watch him, considering how paranoid she gets _especially_ since he's apparently prone to injury. He doesn't agree with that assessment, but Barry and Claire do and while it can get a bit… _much,_ he's touched by their concern, unnecessary as it is.

He continues to work on the cameras and moves on to the next when he's done. It's a bit tedious, but he'll live. He's a little surprised when Venizia appears by his side, a little clumsier than he would've expected. She chuffs and lazily taps her nose against his shoulder. Owen is startled upon realizing just how big his girls have gotten (they're as tall as him now!), and furthermore is confused to find her mind a foggy, cluttered mess.

 _They must have given her too much of a dose_ , Owen thinks, gently stroking her snout. She croons at him, shakily grabbing at him with her large, hand-like paws and he winces as her claws drag against his skin. His careful attempts to untangle himself from the drugged Indominus prove fruitless as she resolutely refuses to let go.

 _Venizia,_ he prods gently, _let go._ It's clearly an order and to his relief, her grip on him loosens. He gracefully slips out of her grip, though he keeps a hand on her smooth skin. _Easy girl,_ he hums softly.

He moves on to the next camera, deciding to get back to the other one later, when Venizia isn't drunkenly chirping at it.

Owen doesn't get a chance to reach for his tools before there's suddenly massive white mass launching itself at him. He's terrified for a split-second and terribly confused. Has he lost the connection? No, there's waves of warmth emanating from his girl and she isn't trying to tear him limb from limb. Rather, she's holding him down, snuffling at his hair, puffs of hot air slipping from her jaws. Owen's never realized just how wide those jaws could stretch. Certainly wider than his raptors.

"Off, Venizia", he says firmly, though not unkindly. She whimpers, nuzzling into his neck and Owen sends a jolt through the bond, warning her off. She whuffles sadly, but she begins to obey, making sad chirping noises all the while. Owen shifts and it seems to surprise Venizia because she starts, bad, and Owen finds himself with razor sharp claws raking across his arm and part of his belly.

He gasps and pain radiates across his body and bleeds into the bond. Venizia flinches off of him, her mind suddenly very clear and he _feels_ more than hears the five calls of fury from the rest of his pack. It doesn't take long for them to appear, Blue at the lead, everything about her posture screaming worried and furious. She's quick to push Venizia away and Charlie and Delta bark at her, circling her and keeping her away from Owen. Roma turns a sharp, if regretful eye on her sister before turning to Owen and chirping softly at him.

 _Can you stand?_ Blue asks, nudging at his uninjured arm.

Owen struggles to stand, using Blue and Roma as crutches (and somehow managing to avoid the spikes budding on Roma's back). Echo trots up to him, inspects his wounds and croons sadly. Owen feels her trying to comfort him through the bond and he gives her a grateful smile. He whistles at them, asking them to back down.

 _She hurt you!_ screeches Charlie, _she harmed the Alpha,_ chitters Delta.

"It was an accident", Owen defends, "they gave her to big of a dose, it wasn't her fault." Owen feels Venizia's guilt and anguish as if it were his own (the anguish might actually be his, he should really deal with all the blood, oh Claire and Barry are going to _love_ this- focus Grady!) and he amplifies it so that the rest of the pack can feel Venizia's remorse. Charlie and Delta relent, though they still cast suspicious glances at their pack-mate.

Owen grasps at the radio at his hip and, taking a deep breath, opens Barry's channel.

"Hey Barry, so there's been a bit of an incident..."

...

Barry and Claire are exactly about as amused as Owen thought they'd be.

Which is to say, not at all. In the slightest.

The wounds, thankfully, look worse than they are. Though they were long, they were rather shallow and his pack didn't get in trouble. Venizia has been given the wrong dosage in her tranq, as Owen had predicted and the rest of his girls has been on their best behavior. Owen still had to get stitches (that was pleasant, Barry was there and was witness to Owen Grady under anesthetic) _and_ he'd been forced to take a few days off. Neither Owen nor his girls had been happy about it.

When he goes back, his girls receive him eagerly and he steps into the paddock (devoid of curious eyes). They're terribly gentle with him, curling around him in a protective circle and nuzzling at him, cooing quietly.

He notices Venizia stays at the fringes, body lowered and trying to look smaller than him, despite being the same height and with almost twice his mass. Owen makes sure his presence is calming, confident, but also kind. He gives his girls each a gentle pat on their necks and noses, then makes his way over to Venizia. She shrinks a bit more, apprehensive.

"It's alright, it wasn't your fault", he chuffs in a familiar tone. The bond is all warmth, no hurt cooling it.

He strokes her flank and ever so carefully she wraps herself around him, with the gentleness one would use to cradle a flower. Owen knows he's no flower, but Venizia is scared of hurting him and he can feel the rest of the pack watching them closely.

He knows the pack will be a little more protective than usual and he's aware that Venizia will probably treat him like he's made of glass, but it'll get better. His arm only slightly tingles when he pulls at the stitches and it doesn't hurt his stomach to laugh. He knows he'll heal faster than most.

Owen continues to stroke Venizia with gentle hands and begins to hum. Venizia had always been particularly fond of instrumental classical pieces. Having been practically raised by his grandmother, Owen has been exposed to a wide variety of music and most of it stuck with him.

He hums Venizia's favorite piece, _Für Elise_ vibrating in his throat and calming the six members of his pack. For now, he is calm, warm, and safe, and so are his girls.

* * *

 **Chapter title:**

 **Ten Dual Commandments from the Hamilton soundtrack (bc I'm musical theatre trash)**

 **Feel free to come scream at me on my tumblr alcors-floating-hat**  
 **Reviews are always appreciated!**


	7. Just A Taste of What You Paid For

**Looks whose back! It's been five (six?) months since I've updated and boy do I feel terrible about it. My life's been kind of hectic though, I mean my junior year of high school just ended today and I'll be a senior (!) in little less than three months. Also, getting this chapter down has been an ORDEAL. Because of course I locked myself out of my tablet and I had to write everything down on my ancient 2003 laptop than then refused to connect to the wifi so then I had to rewrite the whole thing on my phone, which would have been much worse if I couldn't connect it to my keyboard via bluetooth. Don't get me wrong, I'm still dead inside, but I'm just glad it's done with.**

* * *

The time is currently ugh-o'clock in the morning and Adam has not had an appropriate amount of coffee. The plethora of interns, trainers, and other park personnel look like they agree with his unvoiced assessment, though there are a few who seem unaffected by the early hour and the lack of caffeine. One of those people is Lucy, whose bouncing in her hard plastic chair beside him and looking entirely too eager.

"What are you so excited about?" Adam grumbles, curling up as much as he can on his chair. He feels like a high school student sitting on a seat meant for a preschooler.

"Don't you know what this meeting is for?" Lucy exclaims, barreling on before Adam has time to retort and ignoring the stares of reproach her raised voice garners.

"We're planning the anniversary of the original park! Lex and Tim Hammond are going to be there and I've heard that Ian Malcolm is gonna be here this year!" she explains breathlessly, stars in her eyes.

Despite the headache creeping at the edge of his temples, he smiles. Lucy had always been fascinated by the history of Jurassic World and something like this would mean the world to her. Adam thinks Lucy has a cousin actually working in the park, someone named Lowery. Or something. He doesn't even attempt to ask, Lucy's already gone off on a tangent about the preparations that need to be made, special guests, _blah blah_ , and interrupting her would do no good. Besides, his attention is caught by the newcomers at the door.

There at the fringes of the crowded room stands Owen Grady in all his tall, graceful glory, apparently being scolded by his fellow raptor handler Barry Provaire.

Everyone had heard that Grady had been admitted to the medical wing (again) and judging from the arm in the sling and the other slung almost protectively across his stomach, he still has a bit of healing to do.

Adam stares a while longer, trying to maybe decipher their conversation (he should have taken more than one course of French in high school) until Lucy jams a sharp nail into his neck.

"Dude, you need a glass of water for that thirst?" she mocks, partly irritated, mostly exasperated.

"Sorry," he says tartly, rubbing away the sting on his neck.

Lucy rolls her eyes at him.

"You could, you know, try talking to him. It's less creepy than staring at him from a distance."

Adam balks at the idea of actually _talking_ to Owen Grady, sweats just thinking about it.

"Ah, no. Just staring works for me."

There's a moment of silence between them. Lucy fixes her slightly disheveled hijab and takes out her phone. Adam continues to shoot (discreet) glances at Grady and Provaire. Then Lucy shoves her phone back into her pocket, hisses a frustrated _fuck it_ , and marches over to Grady and Provaire, Adam's arm trapped in her vice-like grip.

…

Owen and Barry's conversation on the recognition that _In the Heights_ deserves dies at the sight of interns striding quickly in their direction. Even without the large plastic intern badges at their breasts announcing them as _Adam_ and _Lucy_ Owen recognizes them from the not quite disastrous intern field trip that ended with Barry mediating between Owen and the visitors whilst Owen kept his young raptors from lashing out on the intruders to their territory. It's not a particularly stellar memory, though he can hear, in his mind, his girls chuffing at him from the other side of the park.

The woman- Lucy- has a mischievous glint in her eyes that has Owen instantly on guard. Beside him, for whatever reason, Barry snorts.

"Hey Mr. Grady," she chirps, all too cheerful, "my friend Adam here wanted to talk to you."

She pushes her friend in front of her and Owen can't help but feel pity for him; the poor guy looks terrified. Owen subtly shoves his elbow into Barry's ribs to stop his not-so-quiet snickers and gives Adam an expectant look. Adam makes some sort of choking sound, opens his mouth without saying anything, closes it and intensifies his stare. Owen wonders if there's something on his face.

Owen is quickly beginning to feel awkward, Adam isn't talking, Barry isn't helping and Lucy has wandered off, leaving her friend to suffer in solitude. Maybe it's some kind of dare or bet, to talk to the crazy raptor handlers, he doesn't know. Luckily, before things can get more uncomfortable, Claire arrives, Masrani on her heels.

Owen is quick to grab Barry's arm and rush them to their seats. Adam dazedly makes his way to the wall where the rest of the interns are lined up. Only official park personnel get to have seats at the large table in the middle of the room and even then, there isn't enough space for all of them.

Masrani sits regally at the head of the table and Claire opts to stand tall and proud by his side. Owen shoots her a wink and receives a fond eyes-roll in response. The meeting starts when Masrani issues a polite cough that somehow manages to hush the room.

He tries to concentrate on the meeting, he really does, but his arm aches, the stitches on his belly itch and he hasn't gotten as much sleep as he'd like. His park responsibilities extend beyond the raptors, and the park had been quite active the past week. Owen gives up on the smooth spiral of Masrani's speech and instead concentrates on his girls. They're relaxing in their paddock, no training exercises today. Blue's in her favorite sunning spot, a little patch of dirt on the outskirts of the jungle that she had dug up not three days after they had been moved there permanently. Owen knows she still prefers lying on his chest whilst he sleeps on the hammock, but she's too big for that now and her little ditch comes as a close second.

She's napping, content and warm under the tropical sun. Delta and Charlie are off having their usual competition with Roma and Venizia, the goal being to catch the most wayward animals that are stupid enough to enter the paddock. Birds are worth extra points. The winning pair gets to greet Owen first the next time he enters the paddock (which has, admittedly, been in a while). Currently in the lead are Roma and Venizia with three lizards and two birds. Echo is on the far side of the jungle, watching the workers working on the Indominous paddock through green foliage and reinforced fences. Her sharp eyes track their movements, tracking any and all mistakes, falters, hesitations. She chuffs absentmindedly when she feels him brush against her mind. She isn't in hunting mode, Owen notes. She's merely observing.

He thinks Echo is comparing them to him.

 _The Alpha never falters_ , she points out, watching as one of the workers stumbles over the uneven ground.

 _The Alpha has his pack to keep him upright_ , he hums in response. She croons and Owen slips into an unconscious smile, mind mingling with those of his pack, running, chasing, napping, and observing.

He's practically absorbed into the bond, where he's not just Owen Grady, but also something more, something beyond what a human could possibly hope to experience on their own. He's scrabbling for words to describe the emotion swelling in his chest, but there isn't- there's no point-

The sharp jab at his side startles him back into the meeting room. Barry's giving him a somewhat concerned look, though Owen is sure Barry knows what he was just doing. What really concerns Owen is that all eyes are pointed in his direction, expectant.

''Well, Mr. Grady?" asks Masrani, something strangely knowing in his eyes.

"Um," is the clever response that manages to slip off Owen's tongue. Masrani clears his throat.

"I said, Mr. Grady, if it would be fine to let our special guests see your pack along with the Hammond siblings and Ian Malcolm?"

"Who are the special guests?" Owen asks.

"Ah, well, that's a surprise. Your answer? It's perfectly fine if you say no, but they'll only come if you say yes", Masrani answers patiently.

Owen takes a moment to think. He's genuinely curious about who could be so important that Masrani would directly ask permission for visitors to see the paddock, however, his girls are not attractions to be ogled at by fascinated strangers. Even Roma and Venizia have a while to go before they're ready or the spotlight. Still, Owen senses that there's more to this, that the special guests have something beyond seeing the private raptors of Jurassic World on their minds. He doesn't know if that's good or bad.

His number one priority is to keep his girls safe, so he opens his mouth to say no and shuts it without saying anything when he feels Blue reassure him that _it's fine_. Owen is startled somewhat, last he had checked she had been lightly dozing. She and the rest of the pack pause in their activities to assure him they're fine with the visit, they too are curious about potential allies. They don't need anymore pack mates, but it never hurts to have influential allies.

With their okay in mind, Owen reels his mind back into the meeting room, meets Masrani's dark, mellow eyes, and nods. Masrani grins, claps his hands together, and dismisses the meeting with a flurry of his hand.

Desperate to escape without any questioning (or human interaction in general), Owen rushes out of the room. Thankfully, only Barry follows him.

…

Adam blinks as he watches Grady hurry out of the meeting room, Provaire on his heels.

It had sort of slipped from his mind that Grady is a bit odd. He remembers Grady's strange behavior from the first time he had seen the man at the intern field trip. He zones out a lot for someone who apparently needs to stay focused at all times around the raptor-plus-I. Rex pack. Adam had heard that Grady was entirely to raptor-like for comfort, he'd figured it was just the behavior of a trainer who spent a long time raising their animals, but seeing him in action confirmed what other trainers only talked about in hushed whispers.

Grady's eyes, when not looking off into the distance, are entirely too sharp and calculating. He had seemed so casual and calm talking to Provaire that Adam had completely disregarded Grady's knack for being intimidating. Alternatively, Adam is just really awkward and should never attempt to talk to anyone ever again. Lucy's by his side again, giving him a smile that's half-sheepish, half-apologetic.

"Hey, sorry for leaving you alone with the raptor wranglers. That was a bad wingman move on my part."

Adam shrugs, easily forgiving. Lucy, for all her talk and encouragement, isn't the best at romance either. They walk out of the meeting room talking about plans for an early lunch, Adam's thoughts on Grady shoved to the back of his head for later pondering.

* * *

Alice is not feeling particularly well about being back in the restricted zone. She has permission to be here, Grady knows she's coming and the raptors are inside their paddock. His bungalow is a reasonable trek from the main park. Her mind flashes memories of intelligent and cold yellow eyes behind her eyes. She shivers.

Grady's waiting for her on his hammock, swaying gently, eyes clouded over and soft as the smile curling on his pale pink lips. His earbuds are plugged in. He looks… peaceful. Pliant. Nothing like the man with the raptor-eyes that her memories twist into nightmares. Alice doesn't feel like disturbing him.

She doesn't particularly have a choice though, so she gathers her courage and approaches the hammock. Grady seems to sense her before she can get much closer because his eyes unfog and shoot in her direction like a pair of blue-green laser. He slips his buds into his pocket.

"Ah, Miss Natsume, you're slightly earlier than I'd thought you'd be," he says, and it strikes her how tired he sounds, as if he hasn't had much time to rest and she had just interrupted a rare opportunity. Now that she's closer, she realizes he _looks_ tired too.

There are deep, dark half-moon bruises under his slightly dull eyes. His face seem hollow and skin that was once sun-kissed looks pallid. Alice wonders if he's getting sick again or if she's reading too much into his appearance.

"Mr. Masrani said he wanted to see you as soon as possible."

Grady nods and rolls off the hammock. Considering how tired he appears, it's surprising that he doesn't sway or stumble, instead he is steady on his feet, like a big cat gracefully jumping to its feet rather than a man getting of a swinging hammock. He doesn't look like he's affected by any sort of vertigo.

"Let's go," he says gruffly.

They go. Alice can only really hear Grady's boots glide on the loose dirt-and-pebble road if she listens carefully over the sound of her own boot's loud _crunch_. It reminds her too much of the noiseless steps of a raptor on the hunt.

The distance from Grady's bungalow from the park may be a reasonable trek, but it feels entirely too long.

…

Owen is not exactly sure what Masrani wants to talk to him about. He figures it's about the specifics about the special visitors on the day of the original park's anniversary. They're probably going to talk about the schedule and safety regulations. It sounds logical to him, but Masrani didn't seem bothered by the details when he had brought it up in the first place.

He sighs a tired breath, rolling his shoulders forward to try to relieve some of the tension in his back. He'd actually felt relaxed, lying in his hammock, his mind with his girls in the paddock through the bond when Alice had come to get him. Barry keeps telling him he's due for a vacation.

Alice still seems wary of of him. The thought comes unbidden, but it had been bothering him. He figures she's still scared from her encounter with Echo, though he'd rather have her wary than traipsing around thinking it's fine to enter raptor territory unchecked. In his head, Echo rumbles in agreement.

The elevator comes to a stop and the doors slide open to reveal Masrani's floor. A short walk around a corner later and he's at the door of Masrani's office. Owen takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and enters.

"Mr. Masrani? You wanted to see me?"

Masrani looks up from a stack of papers, eyes kind and smile at the ready. It makes Own feel at ease. His office is a strange study of professional and cozy. It's not like Claire's office, pure white, meticulously organized and almost too cold to be comfortable. Claire is of the mind that an office is for work, not comfort. Owen has an office in the main building (like all official park employees, besides security), but he's only ever entered it once. The key to it is buried beneath messy piles of assorted reports and desk toys in his bungalow.

Masrani doesn't have any pictures in his office, but there's an oil painting of a busy looking village in various shades of red, orange, and yellow. There's a tiny potted cactus sitting next to his silver laptop, fushia flowers growing around the to like a flower crown. The walls are the pure white of the rest of the main building, but they seem oddly less imposing than Claire's, whose only splash of color is her red hair and intelligent blue eyes.

His desk is warm mahogany, well polished and glossy, a shiny plaque with _S. Masrani_ engraved in silver letters sitting proudly to the front. Masrani himself is dressed in a fitted charcoal suit, a dark maroon tie to go with it.

"Welcome Mr. Grady. If you would take a seat please." Masrani says, waving a hand to the plush red chairs in front of his desk. Owen is suddenly terribly conscious of the layers of the dust that decorate his clothes as he delicately settles on none of the chairs.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I asked to meet with you," he says and continues when Owen nods in affirmation.

"How are your raptors?" The question is not Owen was expecting. He's stunned for a moment, isn't sure how to answer. Said pack has no helpful input.

"They're… fine," he finally decides on, wondering what's going on in Masrani's mind.

Masrani hums, low in his throat, eyes thoughtful. Owen has no idea where the thread of the conversation is going.

"That's good, the health and happiness of the animals in this park of great importance to me." He pauses, meets Owen's eyes. "As is the health and happiness of the handlers. Tell me Mr. Grady, are you happy with your position as head raptor handle?"

Owen answers _yes_ without taking even a second to think about it. He can't imagine being anywhere other than with his pack. Masrani smiles as if he knows what Owen would say.

"As I thought. Well, you're free go." Masrani waves him away, a clear dismissal.

Owen hesitates, more bewildered than anything. "Is- is that all, sir?" He hovers over his chair, arms brace on the armrests. He gets the feeling that for all his apparent good intentions, Masrani isn't being entirely truthful. Masrani gifts him a benign smile. When he doesn't say anything more, Owen nods, a quick bob of his head (only Masrani notices how raptor like it is) and stands, prepared to leave. Owen is a step away from the door, hand outstretched to twist the doorknob when Masrani calls out to him.

"I mean what I said. If you ever need help, Owen, I am here."

Owen doesn't say anything, doesn't react. He doesn't even turn around. He is quiet as he slips out of Masrani's office. He doesn't see the strange gleam in Masrani's eyes as he leaves.

The meeting leaves him with the strangest feeling that he's missing something. Owen thinks Masrani might know, _suspect_ , something but what or how much is a complete mystery. That Owen doesn't know his intentions doesn't help his rising anxiety. His emotions must leak into the bond because Blue is suddenly there, both anchor and pillar of support in one.

Owen wants to see his pack. He can feel them through the bond like solid presences beside him, but he wants to be with them. He wants to stretch out his hand and feel warm, marbled skin beneath his fingers. once he reaches the parking lot, he hops onto his bike and speeds off into the direction of the raptor paddock.

…

The pack is eager to see him upon his arrival at the paddock. They stay hidden in the jungle, lurking in wait as Owen dismisses the two security guards hanging around the complex. They trust Owen's word that Barry'll come to join him soon and rush off in their jeep.

As soon as the jeep disappears into the distance, the pack rushes out o the shadows, eyes flashing and chirping in unsuppressed excitement. They sound like when they were allowed to sleep in the house when they were still young enough to be considered safe at his bungalow.

Owen enters the ready-cage, excitement thrumming in his chest, warmth in the bond. He whistles at his girls to stand back and they obey, standing in a neat line from oldest to youngest. It's not until he's inside with the door sliding shut behind him that he allows them to converge on him. They surround him almost immediately, chittering and chirping in joy at having their Alpha near again. It's not like he doesn't interact with them often, he has permission to take them out on expeditions to the restricted zone as much as he sees fit.

But he can't often be in the paddock with them, not with so many eyes that don't know about his ability and especially not with Hoskins lurking like a hungry shark on the trail of fresh blood.

He's here with them now though, they're brushing against him and careful with the still healing wounds. Venizia is especially tender, checking up on the damage she had accidentally caused. She puffs warm little breaths on his arm and her part of the bond turns dark and mournful until Owen gently brushes a hand on her snout, letting the bond color with affection. She croons.

Blue is in front of him, bright and clear as in his mind like a miniature sun, his best girl, his other girls like brilliant stars. They feel so warm, a thrum of life that shouldn't be and yet is, thriving together. Owen is part of it, he can see himself through their eyes, in their minds, the brightest, the Alpha. He doesn't have the words to describe the feeling that curls in his chest.

 _Stay_ , says Blue, though it's not words, the pack doesn't exactly speak. It's more a conveying of thought and emotion that Owen deciphers with ease. He thinks about her request.

It's been awhile since he last slept in the raptor paddock. His first week sleeping in his bungalow again had been… strange. Waking to a firm mattress, his plush duvet tangled in his legs, a pillow to cushion his head had been… different. He had grown too used to sleeping on hard-packed dirt, head cushioned by Delta's flank. He wonders if that should worry him. Owen wants to stay with his girls tonight, revel in the familiarity of the pack bond. He grins at the girls. The next set of guards don't come in till seven at the earliest and he knows that he'll be up and out before then.

Owen had long ago gotten used to waking up at the ass crack of dawn to get shit done.

"Sure," he answers.

Echo pushes him to the center of the dirt clearing, the place where the pack curls up together to sleep. Normally Echo would sleep on his legs, but the other girls have run off into the jungle to chase the remaining vestiges of sun in the sky so she takes up position behind him, allowing him to rest on her. While technically their thread of genetics meant for them to be nocturnal, they had become accustomed to Owen's sleep schedule. He curls up on her side, taking in her warmth. Charlie and Delta are off chasing dragonflies and Blue monitors a competition between Roma and Venizia.

Owen's thoughts drift off to his conversation with Masrani. No that it was much of a conversation really. He wonders what Masrani meant and what he knows. Is it possible Masrani _knows_? If he does, he hasn't mentioned it, trusts Owens control even. Or maybe masrani doesn't know about his abilities and he wants to make sure his employee is okay with working what everyone else considers extremely dangerous animals. Owen doesn't deny that they are extremely dangerous, they've just never been a danger to him. It is still odd though, that masrani would call him just to check on him.

His mind wanders to they mystery guests who Masrani would allow to view the raptors. It's obvious why the Hammond siblings would be allowed to visit the raptors, he even understands why they'd let Ian Malcolm come by, but he has no idea who else would have that sort of influence. He thinks briefly- _maybe_ \- but no, there's no way they'd ever get that man on this island. Maybe the woman but. No, probably not her either.

Owen's thoughts are starting to drift again and he yawns. The sun isn't setting yet, but he's comfortable and his pack is content. He's relaxed, the tension in his shoulders having melted away like butter in the sun. It's not long until he slips into much needed sleep.

…

Owen wakes to the sound of screaming. He's up in seconds, alarm racing through his veins at the piercing cry. His girls snap to attention, hissing and spitting, all eyes flying to the man on the catwalk. Owen notes that the sun has only now begun to set, a distant yellow-white disk half-hidden by the trees. He hasn't been asleep for long, then.

The man on the catwalk, upon further inspection, turns out to be Adam. He's whispering nonsense to himself, half-formed _oh my gods_ and _holy shits_ flowing into word vomit from his mouth. His eyes are wide and fearful, hands clutching at his dark, curly hair.

"Mr. Grady! Oh my god I thought you were dead how are you not- oh _god_ they captured you didn't they, they were saving you for later, holy fuck can you get out, will they let you out, did they hurt you?" He keeps rambling on and Owen wonders if there's any way to salvage the situation. When he hears Adam start talking about going into the paddock himself, Owen decides he has no choice.

"Adam!" he calls, and almost immediately the intern turns to look at him, dark eyes wild.

"I am not in any danger with the pack," he says calmly, slowly, like Adam is a cornered animal. Adam, unsurprisingly, looks unconvinced.

Owen sighs. He turns to his girls, who are staring warily at the intern, whistling at them and ignoring Adam's plea to not bring attention to himself. He turns to Blue, promising to come back when he's finished dealing with the situation. For now though he needs to her to take the pack into the trees and stay there until Adam is gone. He doesn't need him feeling uneasy while they talk. She titters in compliance and chirps at her sisters to follow her. They touch their snouts to his hand as they leave. Once they're out of sight, Owen calls for Adam to open the ready cage.

Adam does so slowly, obviously still terrified. He'd seen him sleeping in a pile of raptors and had assumed he was dead, or soon to be torn apart viciously. Owen winces. He's probably going to have to pay for therapy. Adam doesn't speak until Owen is in the ready-cage and the paddock door is closed behind him. Then:

"Are you fucking _insane_! You could have been killed, those are not kittens that'll give you a little scratch at worst, those are actual murderous dinosaurs that could tear you apart at any second, god how are you even still _alive_?"

Owen puts up a hand to stop the tirade.

"I know they're no harmless kittens," says Owen, grim. Of course he knows, they've built their relationship on trust and respect. "But I am not in any danger with the pack."

Adam gives him an incredulous look, like Owen's already lost his mind and he doesn't know what to do about it. Owen takes a deep breath and explains. He doesn't give as many details as he gave Barry, but he gives just enough. By the time Owen's finished speaking, Adam is looking at him in admiration and skepticism.

"Don't tell anyone, please." Owen doesn't beg, but the plea is there nonetheless. Adam nods, his eyes sincere. Owen rewards him with a wan smile. Adamm hands him the reports he had come to deliver in the first place and leaves. Owen presses his lips together. The pack is out in the open, waiting for him to enter again.

He does, getting into the familiar tangle of limb and teeth and claws. His girls are so big now, in particular Roma and Venizia, and those two still have more grow. He wonders if they'll really grow as big as the rex. He wonders what kind of show Masrani'll have in mind for them when they grow up enough to start.

His thoughts flicker back to Adam. Owen trusts that he won't tell anyone and he hopes that trust isn't misguided, but he still feels uneasy that someone else _knows_. It was one thing that he had told Barry, whom he's known for a while and practically raised his girls with, but Adam, well meaning as he is, is a stranger to him, and strangers have a habit of being unpredictable. Owen hopes his trust isn't misplaced.

Eventually Blue nudges at him, urging him to calm his thoughts because the rest of them are trying to chuckles and allows her cool presence to lull him into sleep. There's something still niggling in the back of his head, but for now, he opts to ignore it.

* * *

 **Chapter title:**

 **Ballad of Mona Lisa by Panic! at the Disco**

 **(btw, can you guess who the special guests will be :))**


End file.
